


Reaper [Zarry AU]

by kaleidoscopecait



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, Afterlife, Bottom Harry, Death, M/M, Reaper - Freeform, Top Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 43,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscopecait/pseuds/kaleidoscopecait





	1. Chapter 1

death one

It's a drab rainy Tuesday, ominous clouds hanging heavily in the sky. A huddle of black is mourning another one.

One.

Two.

Three.

Life happens in a heartbeat.

Blink and time is fleeting. Blink again and it's gone.

The darkness is consuming you, you're stumbling around in a shroud of it, the fear is consuming you. You panic; you can't even breathe, heaving out, chest tight. Tied up like a tethered knot. You are terrified of oblivion; of the unknown.

Or maybe you don't even notice it's happening. You're minding your own business. You feel perfectly fine: happy, carefree...on top of the world.

There are no memories flashing before your eyes and certainly no regrets. There's no time at all to prepare.

It doesn't sink in. There's no realization: I am going to die.

Because most people don't know when it's their turn. Who wakes up, stretches comfortably and lets out a little yawn thinking I'm going to die today?

Exactly. Nobody does that.

I pass through the streets unnoticed, black cloak shielding me from the mortals.

I had been following one in particular for quite some time.

A middle aged man, wry smile on his face as he saw a woman he recognized. He had crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and his hair is sprinkled with gray. There was a certain softness to him though, kindness that comes with age and experience and understanding.

Lost souls often beckon me. They're miserable; so ready for me they don't regret it until the moment I strike and they're crying, wishing for just one more day on their precious little planet.

Some of them deserve it. Cold-blooded murders and pathological liars. People who take everything for granted and flaunt their wealth.

Most of the time people aren't ready and it isn't fair really. It's all randomized.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

A sudden heart attack striking the man. I hardly flinch, watching him clutch a hand to his chest and

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So many people hate me. They shudder at the thought of me, try to stuff me in the back of their minds but you can't avoid me.

Others have nightmares about me. I'm not bad. At least I don't think so.

I've grown close to numb. I'm an outsider, watching the world from a distance. My heart has been dormant for years.

I can't hear the soft lull of my heartbeat or feel any warmth. I've convinced myself maybe I never had a heart to begin with.

Hundreds of years surrounded by death can do that to you. Swarmed by masses of people. Shrill cries of terror and body racking sobs.

It's dizzying. Keeping track of the ones that have to go is exhausting.

Nobody would want to be faced with the daily task I have. Time blurs, days mesh together. It's all continuous to me.

Numbers. Countable casualties and they mean nothing to me.

I barely keep track of days anymore. It's meaningless but I know it's a Tuesday. That's what the obituary said.

Flashed back into reality, pulled from my thoughts. I killed him.

Never let yourself grow attached. They're blank faces and names that have no importance to me. 

Just let it go.

Maybe it's eerie for them, me creeping up on them, the thought of me always just behind their backs.

The onset of fear prickling at their spines, that sinking feeling in their guts.

Don't feel a thing.

But in the moment I do. They're so helpless and unsuspecting. Stupid creatures of habit.

They know I'm inevitable. You can't avoid me.

You can't cheat me. Nobody ever does, nobody ever will.

Everything stops as I study him. He bends down to pick up a purse and he bolts.

Did he steal it? Should he be my next victim?

His speed increases and he's practically panting, feet colliding with the slick oiled pavement.

I catch a glimpse of him, breaking out into a wide smile and the woman embraces him, blessing him for returning the valuable item she lost.

All he does is shrug and reply it was nothing love

Well, I know that isn't true. He went out of his way to track her down. I'm going out of my way to follow him.

He's next.

That's when I feel it, something strumming; something pounding in my chest.

A heart?

I'm tugging my cloak off and there it is, a human reflection staring back at me as I glance in a store window.

He turns around abruptly

smack

knocking straight into me

"Ow," he rubs at his forehead and then his gaze meets mine. Eyes so green and skin so pale I'm in awe.

Humans are never this beautiful.

No, stop. It's his turn and you know it. Just do it already.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"M'fine."

He gives a dimpled grin, curls bouncing as his head tilts.

"Do I know you?"

"Probably not," I reply truthfully.

But you should.

"Oh," he replies dumbly. "Sorry about...yeah," he blushes, scratching the back of his neck. "You looked familiar," he mumbles.

I'm letting him slip through my fingers as shuffles down the sidewalk.

Maybe another day won't hurt. Not yet. There are plenty of other people.

When I return home I feel the wrath, his eyes searing into mine, scorching my skin like hot lava.

"You know I wanted the curly one dead. It was his time," he frowns. "You're making me very angry. Don't test my patience."

His red eyes flash and I panic.

"Hot-headed," I say jokingly.

It doesn't go over well. He reaches out, hand curling around my wrist and I release a scream as my flesh melts.

"You will kill him tomorrow."

"Why am I expected to play God?"

He rolls his eyes, fingers unfurling as he releases his grip on me.

"You have to bring my worst enemy into everything?"

I swallow the lump in my throat, beads of sweat trickling down my forehead. I'm burning alive, suffocating from the stifling heat.

Then I'm transported back to my flat, gasping for air, hand trembling.

Do you believe in God Zayn? Is there a God? If so why can't he save the brown haired boy? Why are you expected to kill him? Is there a heaven?

There must be.

I've spent too much in hell. What is Heaven like? What happens after death?

I'll never know but I hope he'll turn out okay. I hope there is a Heaven and that he'll go there. It's what he deserves.

"I'll kill him tomorrow," I chant. "I'll kill him tomorrow, kill him tomorrow, kill him tomorrow, kill him to-"

I don't want to be burned again.


	2. Harry

I'm late, I'm late, I'm late late late. Whisking up some papers I left scattered on the dining table, hastily pouring some coffee into my reusable cup. My hair is a mess, tie knotted lazily.

Time isn't on my side. I'm racing, rushing, running out of the door, fumbling for my car keys, shakily turning them in the ignition.

My mind is somewhere else today. I don't know why my alarm didn't wake me up. Maybe it did and I hit snooze and rolled back over.

There's a car coming from the other direction, barreling through an obviously red light. It's too late, the vehicle in front of me already driving through the green signal

and then

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The impact is jarring, scraps of metal flying, tires squealing, flames fanning. Smoke billows from the windows and my heart is racing in my chest, body trembling as I grip the steering wheel. My knuckles turn white and I release a breath, somewhat relieved.

It's so fucking selfish.

That could have been me. What if I wouldn't have been running late? Could that have been my car, completely smashed?

The thought makes me shiver deeply and I'm on my phone, dialing help, cheeks stained with tears.

I could have died today. I've never really thought about it. I'm too young. Usually I just shrug it off, push it to the back of my mind.

It's like I think I'm invincible. Everyone dies. It doesn't matter how old you are, how rich you are, how strong you are.

I have a lot of will to live.

That means nothing.

Because it's real. I swallow the lump in my throat, reporting the scene of the accident with a broken voice.

My heart shatters with the wail of the sirens. I'm quivering at the sight of a stretcher.

By the time I get to work, I'm full on sobbing at my desk, still shaken up.

My concentration is lost. Did I call my mum today? Did I tell her I love her?

Suddenly, I feel empty. A pang of regret strikes me and my heart is weeping until there's nothing left.

I never say it enough. I never appreciate what I have. I don't cherish every moment. I check the time too often and curse my luck.

Why am I in such a hurry? Where am I going? Where do all those people on the streets scurry off to? What's so important?

I've never been religious but I'm clasping my hands together, head bowing as I mumble

"Please please please be okay. It wasn't even their fault. It wasn't even their fault."

My pulse is strumming in my neck.

All the innocent lives taken each day: taken by suicide because they think they don't matter, those taken by violence, by the sharp blade of a knife or eyesight failing, gunshots ringing in their ears.

I'm alive, I'm alive.

"Thank you," I exhale gratefully."Thank you God, thank you."

Always count your blessings Harry. Pray before you eat. Be patient. Be kind. Take nothing for granted.

"Hello?"

"Mum," I let out an anguished cry. "I'm okay but there was an accident on the way to work. I saw it all happen. I saw it-" my voice cracks. "I miss you. I want to hear your voice."

"Oh Harry," she replies softly. "You're always working. You never come to see me. I'd be so crushed if that was you. I can't afford to think like that. You're my baby. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I whisper. "With all my heart."

"Maybe you should take some of those vacation days, you've been so stressed lately. It can't be good for your health."

"Okay," I chuckle. "I'm getting that promotion next week. I'm determined."

If there even is a next week.

"I'm sure everything will turn out just fine love. Don't stress about it too much, okay?"

"Alright, I've gotta go."

When I get home, I'm exhausted. I flop onto the couch and switch on the telly. The news is blaring and my eyes strain as they stay glued to the flashing screen.

A young woman and her infant. Both dead on impact. The man is in critical condition.

We could have swapped places. Rather it have been me than them.

Who decides fate? Is God really that cruel? Why did he spare me and not them? What did they ever do wrong?

Why not one more day?

Buying time, that's our favorite thing. A human folly.

We have no control over time. We don't choose when we die. It just happens.

I busy myself in an attempt to take my mind off things but I'm itching to understand why. It doesn't make any sense.

My feet tap nervously and chew at the cap of my pen, scrolling down the page as I add something to an Excel spreadsheet.

What's the meaning of this, of working so hard when I'm just going to die anyway?

Shouldn't I be happy? I've been stuck in this mindset for too long: hard work and dedication equals happiness. It might bring success but am I really truly happy?

I feel hallow and alone, suffocated by work; smothered by prospects of money and climbing up the rungs of the corporate ladder.

Is that who I am? Surely not. I used to be so carefree. I didn't care how much money was in my bank account. All I cared about was things that matter. Things you can't count.

You can't count the brightness of a smile or the softness of someone's voice. You can assign values to a lot of things but not people. No person is worth more than another.

Everyone makes mistakes but they don't define us.

What I care about is the way my mates chuckle after I crack a joke. The gentle hum of a song on the radio and the warmth of the sun of my skin.

I'm here on this Earth for a reason: to change things. To make a meaningful impact.

If I can touch just one person, I can die happy. That's all I really wish for.


	3. death two

I couldn't do it. The thought of his body pale and lifeless made me ache. I haven't felt this way in a long time.

Body still, eyelids closed. A heart without a beat.

No.

Not him. Not now. Not yet.

He must have been so scared. I'm playing through the motions in my mind, rewinding like a tape.

It very well could have been him, it was supposed to be. Luckily, he didn't hear his alarm. He was off his regular schedule and it was a miracle.

Or maybe not. I smirk, satisfied with myself.

Head being thrown forward, the windshield shattering, airbag releasing. Dead in an instant, emerald eyes snapping closed, neck dangling to the side, head pressed to the car door.

There's no way. I couldn't summon the strength to do it.

He's just flesh and bones. He's no different from the others. Why do I care so much?

I'm foolish for letting him go. I'll be scolded for it later.

But for now I'm not death. I'm not a dark shadow. I'm not the grim reaper. I'm not anyone's worst nightmare.

I'm just Zayn.

"Oh sorry! I'm so so so sorry."

Spilled coffee all over my shirt. It doesn't burn nearly as much as-

It's the boy with a soft smile and eyes like the forest.

"We keep meeting in the worst way possible," he gives a dimpled grin, dabbing at my shirt with a napkin.

"It's alright, don't bother. I um...would you like me to buy you another?"

"Heavens no," he waves his hand around, declining my offer.

I flinch at his choice of words and at how freely he moves, feet clumsy, smile wide.

What are you doing Zayn? Don't get close to him, it will only make things worse. The more attached you get, the-

He's staring at me with so much fondness, eyes sparkling. His skin looks so smooth, the color of cream or glazed porcelain and I'm tempted to touch his face with my fingertips.

But my body is so cold, my heart is frigid and he must be so warm.

I've never really wanted anything this much. Usually I pay no mind to my victims.

There's no ignoring this one.

"It's freezing," his teeth clatter. He disposes of his now empty coffee. I smell like creamer and hazelnut but I don't really mind.

It gives me a scent to associate with him.

"I'm Harry," he smiles, extending his hand.

I'm melting at his touch. When he releases his grip my mind protests, heart sinking to the bottom of my chest.

When was the last time I had physical contact with someone?

Shake the thought away. Walk away.

"I have to go...it was nice meeting you Harry."

"Oh," he frowns. "Y-yeah. You too-"

"Zayn," I smile. "Maybe I'll see you around. Be more careful next time, yeah?"

"Hey wait!"

I'm already lost in a huddle of people, losing sight of his mop of messy curls.

Slipping away from it all, being transported back to the fiery pits of the underworld.

"I'm not impressed, he sneers.

Of course not.

"Why can't you do it? Are you weak? He's a mortal," he growls. "Kill him."

"There are plenty of other people who actually deserve to die," I posit. "Why can't I just swap him for someone else? Honestly it doesn't make a difference."

"That isn't how this works. I give an assignment and you do it. You've never had any problems the past...oh you know couple billion years. There's nothing special about that boy."

He grins wickedly at me, eyes ablaze. "Is there?"

"No," I shake my head in confirmation. "He means nothing to me. I barely know him, I just-"

"Stop trying to find him and dispose of him already."

It's like he's garbage or something. We're talking about a human life here.

Doesn't God decide all this?

"What are you thinking about," he snaps. "Are you questioning my authority?"

"Lucifer," I chuckle lightly. "I would never. Do you know how powerful you are?"

And arrogant?

"I'm well aware," he smirks. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Most definitely."

He's an angel. Well, not an actual angel but he looks like one. If he was a real angel it would make this so much easier. We'd both be immortal. I could just resign from my position and join the light side. Of course he's just a silly boy. One with a head of brown curls and feet that trip over everything but the last thing I want to do is hurt him. How am I supposed to kill him? Can't he at least find someone to love first? Why can't he grow old and fat and happy?

"Next time we meet he better be dead," his eyes taunt me, rings of auburn and gold flashing. Teeth gritted, jaw set tight.

I can't stare at him for too long or I'll go blind.

"Or else."

A deep shiver runs down my spine and I find myself in my flat, body unsteady like I can't remember how gravity works.

My hand still tingles where he touched me and I smile to myself.

At least our first and last meeting was memorable.

I hope he isn't chilly anymore, that he's huddled up by a fireplace, good book just breath his nose. I hope he's immersed in it, fingers turning the crisp pages. Or Maybe he's buried under sheets and a pile of fuzzy blankets, asleep, snoring softly.

If so, now is the time to do it. When he looks peaceful and everything is calm. But he isn't. Images of him flash through my mind.

He's troubled, padding across the carpet, tousling his curls. He shouts angrily before slamming his laptop closed.

Why is he so upset? Then there are tears. Soft but somber, his shoulders shaking as they rack his body.

Who did this?

He reaches out, hand shaking, eyes skimming the screen one more time.

It's...an email.

I regret to inform you that you have not been picked for the position as

I stop reading there, suddenly feeling dizzy, vision blurring. I can only focus on one person for so long. The glimpse I have of him fails, the energy draining from my body.

At least now I know who my next victim is.

He'll regret ever clicking send.


	4. Harry

I should just quit my job. No, I should just quit everything.

End it all right now. I'm tempted to, rummaging through the kitchen drawers, butcher's knife glinting under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

Would anybody care?

I groan, slamming the drawer shut. What has gotten into me? I've been so damn selfish lately.

I've felt so dejected and worthless. It's like I have no purpose left.

That's when I think of him, the man with warm amber eyes and skin the color of caramel. Is there a reason he blew me off?

Maybe something is bothering him. I sure hope he's okay.

It's easy for me to worry about other people but when it comes to myself I couldn't care less.

It drives my mother mad. She thinks I'm clinically depressed or something. I think I'm a workaholic with nothing to look forward to.

She's right, as always. I need to take a break.

That's why I call up my mates and end up in a bar on the South side of town. I'm happy and giddy, alcohol swimming through my veins. Liam swirls around his glass, brows shooting up before he turns to me.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

Zayn, dressed in black skinnies and a gray band tee, tucked in the corner of the building. He has a drink in his hand and tips it to his mouth, smoothly taking a small sip.

"We've met," I dance around the question.

"He's so...pretty," his voice falters. "Go," he nudges my side. "He's into you. Go talk to him."

"Hi," I squeak out nervously, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

"Hey," he replies amused, smirk on his face. "You look great."

"Thank you," my cheeks flush. "As do you. I feel like I owe you for spilling on your shirt."

"No," he laughs softly. "It's okay. This is a much more pleasant way to meet. Who knew we'd both end up here?"

"It's so crazy. Our paths cross a lot, don't they?"

His fingers brush through his jet black hair and he flashes a bright white smile.

"They sure do."

He seems so relaxed and I'm so stiff, stressed over everything.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

I'm nodding my head, mouth dry as I follow him to the bar, spinning around on the stool.

"Having fun?"

"Yeah," I giggle. "But I'm getting dizzy."

"Oh," he frowns but gladly orders me a drink and slides it to me.

It's sweet and my tongue trails over my bottom lip, savoring the taste. God, it's strong.

He's studying me, gaze intense and unwavering and I blush again. Should I be concerned? Is he stalking me?

"Sorry," he mumbles, turning away from me. "I just thought you seemed a little down."

"I'm okay," I lie.

He cocks his head to the side, eyes glimmering.

"Are you?"

For some reason I feel like talking to him. Maybe it's because he's a stranger and we're both slightly intoxicated. It doesn't feel like he'd judge me and I'm itching to get a few things off my chest.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

His hand slips over mine, thumb stroking my skin. It feels oddly comforting and my heartbeat slows. My body feels so tired, head so heavy.

I just want to sleep forever. My eyes meet his. Honey with flakes of gold. I'm drifting off slowly, eyelids heavy as sleep tugs at me.

"Everything will be okay," he murmurs. He reaches out to touch my face, hand stretching to caress my cheek.

"I'm s-s-so sleepy," I slur, drowsy and exhausted.

"I know," his voice is still a whisper. Comforting and smooth. "It's okay to get some rest. You deserve it."

I'm trying so hard to fight it off but his touch is so tender and his tone is so gentle it's nearly impossible.

"Zayn," I say quietly, lashes grazing my cheeks. "I want to be friends."

His hand falls limply from my cheek, eyes wide.

"I should go. I'm really sorry. There's uh...I left a candle burning in my room."

Likely story.

"Please," I whimper. "Stay."

"You don't need me Harry, you're so unbelievably strong."

"No," warm tears prick at my eyes. "I want you to touch me."

My throat burns from the alcohol and I'm disoriented, vision blurred.

"You'll regret ever meeting me," he whispers, eyes so sad I nearly weep for him.

"Why?"

He shakes his head silently and I bite my tongue, keeping the tears at bay.

"I'm just not good for you. Trust me. You deserve so much more."

He's on his feet and I'm begging him with wet eyes.

Don't go. There's something about you. You're worth it Zayn.

"Harry, I-"

I'm stumbling closer and his arms are wrapping around me, steadying my waist.

"Easy," he murmurs, brushing some hair behind my ear.

My neck tingles where his cool fingertips touched me. He's always so cold.

I let my head fall onto his shoulder, body slumping like it weighs a solid ton.

He rubs comforting circles into the small of my back and it happens again, my heartbeat slowing.

Tick tick. Tick tick. Tick tick. Tick tick.

Until it feels like it's barely beating and I have no strength to do anything. I'm just melting in his arms, body limp and weak.

It's sweet surrender, my strained eyes shutting.

"You should have stayed away," his voice crackles. "I'm so sorry. I tried to warn you."

Tick tick. Tick tick. Tick tick.

"You'd hate me if you really knew."

Tick tick. Tick tick.

"I don't want to do this," his voice is so strained, so raw.

I think I'm dreaming. I'm floating.

"Harry...I swear I never wanted to hurt you. I hope someday you'll forgive me."

Nothing about this hurts. I've never felt so safe. My cheek creases his thin cotton shirt, the drowsiness growing stronger, deep sleep tugging at me.

I need it. I want it so desperately. I haven't slept well in forever.

"You can do it," he encourages. "Go to sleep beautiful."

Tick tick.

His thumbs press into my skin and knead out all the knots, fingers tracing up and now my spine. A jolt of electricity runs through me. It's a slow wave passing through me; a power surge of flying sparks.

Everything tingles as his lips find the crook of my neck, tickling my sensitive skin.

"Goodnight Harry."

Tick.


	5. death three

It was so easy. All it took was the twist of my hands around his thick neck. There was no struggle, no fight.

Just him gasping for air, eyes snapping closed as his limp body slipped from my grasp, slumping down the brick wall.

It's what he deserved. The boy worked so hard. He earned it and the bastard gave the promotion to his golfing buddy. It's all sick, twisted politics.

Cold hands. Always cold. Slender fingers and lanky legs.

My thoughts wander back to the boy who radiated heat, face nuzzled in the crook of my neck. He was so trusting and so innocent. It was pitiful how desperate he wanted me to be there for him in his altered state of drunkenness.

But I understand better than anyone. I've gone years without feeling something that long, without being touched. Its was glorious, relishing in his warmth, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the lull of his heart.

I'm onto the next one, an old woman with wispy hair.

She can't remember much at all. It's times like these when I actually like my job. When people are terminally ill or suffering and they can't seem to find any peace.

That's why she dies in a sheer cotton nightgown in her own bed, wrapped in old petal print sheets that smell like lilac and fabric softener.

Exactly how I wanted her to go.

What would he think if he knew who I really was? I'm a cruel monster with close to no remorse.

My eyelids squeeze shut and I fight back tears for the first time in a long time.

So soft and so pale, eyes so kind. There's a special place in Heaven for people like him.

It's wrong of me to believe in such a thing; it's risky to think like that but there is a higher power. Someone stronger than the devil, someone that grants forgiveness and asks for nothing in return but devotion and repenting your sins.

What a beautiful picture. Fluffy white clouds in a vast baby blue sky.

The Earth shifts around me, ground falling out beneath my feet. Im sinking

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down down until my body is covered in a sheen of sweat, sticky hair plastered to my forehead

Lashings that sting, the whip breaking the skin of my back and I'm begging for mercy, knees pressing to the ashy ground. The air slashes my open wounds and it's like pouring salt. The shock of the blows has my entire body shaking, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"You will obey me," he hisses.

It's like my back is on fire. When he stops I crumple, body folding in on itself.

Was it worth it? Is it worth the pain?

"Stop testing me," his eyes etch into my skin. "Is that understood?"

I wish I could die. I wish I could die. I wish I wasn't already dead. I'm stuck here for eternity.

Sometimes I feel alive. Sometimes I can hear my heart, feel the blood pumping through my veins, pulse strumming in my neck.

I remain silent, throat swollen, taste of salty tears fresh on my tongue.

"Answer me," he growls.

My hand shields my eyes as I glance up briefly at him.

"I won't disappoint you again."

I'm still full on sobbing when I get home, hands tugging at my hair frustrated.

What is wrong with me? How could I let this happen?

Would you still want to be my friend? I've killed everyone that has ever mattered to be. I take innocent lives.

A hideous, vile creature. When I look in the mirror my reflection is ugly. Is this what everyone else sees?

I blink and then when I open my eyes I'm met with a sharp jawline and honey colored eyes. The soft sweep of pink lips and thick groomed brows.

Droplets of blood pool at my feet and I shallow, turning slightly to get a better view.

My heart shudders in my chest and I gasp, eyes widening as I assess the damage.

This is worse than I thought. I wish I was still numb.

The pain is so insurmountable I continue weeping, face buried in my hands. I feel so weak, body trembling.

I didn't used to be like this. I was strong. I blocked the pain. I felt nothing.

He changed me.

What am I?

What would life be like if I was a human? Would it be significant? Would I feel everything deeply? Would I experience pain and sadness and heartache and joy? Would I fall in love?

Has he ever been in love? Has someone tell him how much he meant to them, how beautiful he is?

All I can remember is the way he begged for me to stay and the way he fit so perfectly in my arms. Like two locking puzzle pieces, him filling the emptiness inside of me. Little creases and crevices and the holes in my heart suddenly whole again.

Maybe he never felt that type of love. It only makes me hurt worse.

The pain in my heart outweighs the pain of my peeling flesh.

Forgive me, forgive me Harry. I told you to stay away. I said I never wanted to hurt you. You're the purest soul I've ever met. You restored my faith in humanity.

I hate myself. I turn away disgusted, feet gently padding across the floor. It's dark and dingy in my flat so I open the blinds.

It's equally drab outside, rain pelting down, little droplets running down the windows, the soft patter tapping against the roof.

I'm preparing myself, pulse caught in my throat as I crack open my bedroom door.

Just breathe Zayn. Inhale. Exhale. Maybe it won't be so bad.

There he is, pale body on my bed, cheek creasing the pillowcase. Brown curls spill over his eyes. He's tangled in the sheets and I want him to stay like that forever.

I slowly inch closer, placing my hand over his forehead.

Oh Zayn. Surely you've lost your mind.


	6. Harry

"You're okay," he strokes my forehead. "You passed out. Here," he hands me a few pills and a glass of water. "For your headache," he smiles softly, fingers carding through my messy curls.

"I...I can't remember much of anything."

I swallow the bitter pills and take a large gulp of water.

"But you were there with me," the wheels churn in my head. "That's all that mattered. I wanted to be close to you."

"Me too," he murmurs. "I should get you back home. Your mates are probably worried sick about you."

"Wait," I cry out, voice strained. "Just be here with me now."

He buries himself under the sheets, space between us and I move closer, our fingers brushing.

"You're always so cold."

I'm huddling closer, snuggling up beside him until he grows warmer and there's a faint smile on his face.

"Thanks for taking care of me," I whisper, reaching for his hand.

Our fingers lace together and my heart grows fuzzy, cheeks flushing as he studies my features.

"You're beautiful," he exhales. "I just thought you should know that."

"So are you," I reply truthfully, taking his face in my hands, thumb swiping under his sharp jaw. "I almost died this week," I mutter. "I've never really been scared of death but it's always lurking you know? I never thought about it much until now. It was a wake-up call."

"You should never be scared," he assures. "Don't dwell on it too much, just live in the moment."

"Carpe fucking diem," I grin.

"Exactly," he chuckles. "Why were you at the bar last night, any particular reason?"

"I was upset," I sigh heavily. "I worked really hard for a promotion and they weren't suppose to announce anything until next week but suddenly I get this email and...it wasn't me," my brows scrunch together. "I don't know what I did wrong."

"You shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

Then he hums, fingers brushing through my tangles and I close my eyes.

"Please don't fall asleep," his voice quivers. "Stay awake."

His eyes are filled with fear and I wonder what suddenly got into him.

"Okay," I reply cautiously. "Maybe I need a cold shower or some coffee."

"So you can spill it on me," he smirks. "Maybe I should pour it."

"Stop," I pout. "It isn't funny."

"Sorry," he laughs lightly and rolls over, getting up. He winces and grinds his teeth as his body bends. The hem of his shirt rolls up slightly, a sliver of tan skin and tight muscles showing, rippling as he stretches.

Again, he grimaces and I'm there, placing my hand on the small of my back.

"Are you okay Zayn? Are you hurt?"

"M'fine," he grumbles.

I catch a peek of his skin and stumble back stunned, heart plummeting to the bottom of my chest.

"Harry I can explain," he licks his lips, brows knitted together.

"This isn't okay! It isn't," I scream. "How did this happen?"

"It'll heal."

"No, those are deep wounds Zayn. You need to go to the hospital. I'll take you, just put on some shoes and-"

"Please," he rubs at his temples. "I don't want anyone to see me like this."

My heart is pounding out of my chest and I step closer, collecting him in my arms, clutching to him like he's all that matters.

"I'm so sorry," my voice breaks.

His body is shaking, warm tears soaking my shirtsleeve but I don't mind at all. Whatever helps him ease the pain.

When I pull away he hides his face in shame and I wonder what kind of person he is. He told me to keep my distance but I didn't listen and this is...I don't know what to think. Who would beat him and why?

"C'mere," I take his hand in mine and lead him to his bathroom, switching on the light. "Sit down," I order patiently.

He does, bum squirming on the edge of the bathtub.

"We have to clean it out."

"No, I'll be fine."

"It can get infected," I huff. 

I dampen a wash rag and squirt some gentle soap on it, gently pressing it to his skin. He hisses in pain so I give him a moment and rummage around in the cabinets until I find some antibiotic ointment.

"You'll be okay," I murmur, kissing the apple of his cheek.

He's biting his bottom lip, blinking rapidly but he can fall apart if he wants to.

"It's okay to cry. I know it hurts."

"You're an angel," his voice trembles, lip wobbling.

"I can promise you I'm not," I grin and sit down beside him, entwining our fingers.

Slowly but steadily, I bring his hand up to my lips and kiss it.

"At least you're warmer now."

His eyes search mine and he's scooting impossibly closer, hands cupping the nape of my neck as he kisses me.

Passionately, tongue parting my mouth. I feel giddy, heart fluttering in my chest as he tugs at my hair. My moan hits the back of his throat and he pulls away teasingly.

"Maybe you're not an angel but you're damn close."

"Stop," my cheeks redden. "I thought you didn't want to be friends."

His face drops and I instantly regret my words.

Print them out like receipts. Take them back. Take them back. Return them, stuff them back into your mouth, cram them.

Rewind time.

Do something.

Say something.

"This is so wrong. I was so wrong," his jaw twitches. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I-"

His eyes flash with something wicked. A deep animosity and I shiver, backing away from him, heart shuddering; locking itself up in my ribcage.

Burning amber, fueled by something powerful...something I can't quite put into words.

"I never want to see you again."

My mind is faltering. He just pierced my heart and it's deflating, my body shrinking back.

"I don't understand, I-"

"Just go," he exhales heavily.

"Zayn why are you doing this? We can talk about this. Whatever it is that's bothering you-"

"Go," his body tenses. "Now."

Cold hands, a cold tone but his heart? Is it cold too?

The softness in his eyes is gone and so am I, pulling on my shoes and heading towards the door.

I glance back but he isn't even looking at me, his gaze is distant; aloof and a cool breeze blows past me as I exit, the door snapping closed behind me.

It's always so cold.


	7. death four

I had my chance.

If I have to suffer for him I will. I'll do absolutely anything and everything but I just can't see him again. I can't be close without wanting more, without my muscles aching and my heart begging to be touched.

The more I distance myself the better off he'll be.

You never want to be close to death.

That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt more than getting whipped until I'm seeing stars because it does. It's a different kind of torture. Slow and gradual but I'm anguished, my thoughts always wandering back to him.

Stop. Push him away. Just end him already. End this insanity.

No. No. I can't, I can't, I can't. I won't.

It's a mental battle, a bitter tug of war and my heart is taking the lead.

He deserves to live. Take it. Take the pain Zayn. Embrace it. You've done enough damage, at least spare him.

All I do is destroy everything; ruin everything I touch and I cannot do that to him.

If I hurt him I'll never forgive myself.

The space between us feels like bullet holes.

I shouldn't have left him that way, without an explanation. His eyes were so soft and so sad, wet with tears.

I'm letting out staggered breaths, heart climbing up my ribcage like a ladder.

Thud thud thud.

You have to save him. You have to protect him.

There are a million conflicting thoughts circling through my mind, warm blood boiling in my veins.

You're always cold.

No I'm not.

Warm me up, warm me up.

My insides are fizzing, body sinking deep into my mattress. I exhale, fingers running through my coal black hair.

Black, black, black. Everything is black except him.

He's baby pink and pastel yellow, cheeks crimson. Eyes the color of evergreens and I'm infatuated.

Shatter me. Slash my skin. Crush my bones into fine powder. Just leave him alone. Let him smile, let him experience joy. Give him everything. Give him sunshine and laughter and love.

Someone needs to cherish him. They need to memorize every inch of his skin, they need to make him feel safe; wrap him up like he's fragile. Whisper to him in the dark when he's troubled and the moonlight is too pale to bring him any solace, wind shrill, howling beyond the thin walls of his flat.

Worship him like there is no one else. It's only him, the outside world blurring away. He's dips and curves and dimples and dotted freckles.

He's astoundingly beautiful.

And he's passionate. He's kind. He's everything you'd ever want and more but he doesn't see that.

Harry is worth so much more than he thinks. I'd tell him that, spell it out with my fingers, etch my feelings on his skin with my lips but I can't. I can't.

At least let him find that person. Someone that will convince him he is their world; he is their everything because it isn't me.

No. It's impossible.

I feel fragmented, heart fracturing into a billion tiny pieces as I try to push away the images of him.

I'll cut myself on the shards just to patch it up. I haven't locked anything inside of it for so long.

They keep flickering behind my eyelids, messy brown curls spilled across my pillow. Mouth parted, soft snores filling the room.

Of course I couldn't do it. Who with a functioning heart could watch such an innocent creature take their last breath?

I don't want to be the bad guy anymore.

I've lived so long in the absence of touch. He's my oxygen. He's my oxygen and I'm dying to breathe, clutching my hand to my chest.

Breathe breathe breathe.

He's warmth and vivid burnt orange sunsets. He's sappy words and sloppy kisses and I want him so bad.

I've been burned a million times but this is different.

He ignites me.

I'm death. I am literally death but I've never felt so alive.

My heart is exploding but I want it to stop. I don't want the flying sparks. I don't want to feel anything at all.

I want to keep him safe.

Nothing. You are nothing. You are whispers that never were. Things left unsaid. Emotions forever unfelt.

Chaos. That's what I am. Chaos and madness of my own creation.

Give me comfort. Make sense of my madness.

Spiraling down again, the stifling heat making my throat close up.

"You aren't capable of love" he jeers. "What makes you think you can feel something? No one will ever love you. Are you attached to the boy? Is that the problem?"

"No," I mumble.

"Oh, I think you are. I'm not foolish."

"Please," tears prick at my eyes. "There are so many other people-"

"Tell me," his tone softens. "What is it about him? Why is he so special to you?"

"Why do I have to do this? I'm so tired. I can't do this anymore. Spending eternity in hell is-"

Cruel punishment for crimes I never committed.

"Bad enough? I don't appreciate you questioning my authority."

"Tell me," I say exasperated. "What did I do to deserve this? Please," I'm tugging at my hair, biting the inside of my cheek. "I don't understand."

"You're the chosen one."

I want to snort, fucking laugh at the absurdity of that.

"I never asked for this! I've been loyal to you for hundreds of years just let me pick his death on my own terms. Let me choose how he goes."

"I'm not as terrible as history makes me out to be. I'll agree to that on a few conditions. You have one month and you will be punished. Is that understood?"

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you."

Flood gates breaking, tears springing from my eyes.

"You've grown weak. Prove to me you're strong."

Can you hear echoes in hell? My screams are tortured and mangled, my heart pounding out of my chest.

"Can't handle a little heat?"

He's worth it, he's worth it, he's worth it.

When he stops my body shakes and I swallow thickly, eyes taking in the burn marks all over my skin.

"I healed your back. You should be grateful," he hisses.

I have died over and over and over again without ever feeling a thing.


	8. Harry

I don't understand. Why did he kiss me? Why is he sending me mixed signals and why am I so upset over him?

Why does it hurt so much?

We barely know each other. I just happen to like the way my name slipped off his tongue and the sweet taste of his mouth.

What is he hiding? Maybe he's the one I was destined to change.

Zayn, the beautiful caramel skinned man with frigid fingers.

I'd like to know every secret he has to hide. I want my fingertips to ghost his skin.

The skin on his back doesn't make him ugly. No, he could never be ugly.

There's something off about him though, the way he switched moods so quickly has that had me so unsettled. What triggered him? Was it the kiss? Maybe it was too soon but I thought he wanted it; I just want him to be okay.

I want his heart to be warm.

Maybe he doesn't realize he is capable of-

What am I thinking? What was I going to say?

Love?

Just forget about him Harry. You know nothing about him anyway. This should be easy.

But I'm always too curious; intrigued my his honey colored eyes and the way he flipped out so quickly.

Somebody hurt him.

Someone in his past. There's no other explanation. I understand if he never wants to place his trust in anyone again but he didn't even give me a chance.

I'm sorry Zayn. I'm sorry someone made you lose hope. Please don't give up just yet. Have faith in me. I can make you warm. I can heal you. Let me.

Seeing him again startles me.

In the library of all places, his fingertips skimming bent spines.

I'm two steps from turning around and walking away when he spots me, tongue poking out from behind his teeth as he smiles.

"Hi."

It's so simple. One word. Two letters and it sends me reeling, heart tumbling in my chest like it's on the spin cycle, stomach dropping out like I'm accelerating down a roller coaster.

Followed by words I never thought I'd hear him say.

"I'm sorry."

"Wait...run that by me one more time."

His head cocks to the side, grin widening.

"Charming," he chuckles. "I wasn't in a good place then but that doesn't mean I should have pushed you away...it was wrong of me," he adds softly. "I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Don't have one."

He looks perplexed, brows scrunching together. "What?"

"A heart," I say jokingly. "What even is that?"

His eyes roll and in one swift motion he pulls a book off the shelf, flicking through the old crinkled pages as his eyes scan the paragraphs.

"A book on...biblical prophecies?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, as if it's a completely normal thing to come to the library for.

"Research project."

"Oh," I reply dumbly. "You're still in school?"

"Uh...grad school," he mutters. "What do you do?"

"I do payroll for a law firm."

"How exhilarating," he teases, eyes glimmering. "Okay, so maybe you didn't get the promotion but I have a feeling things are going to turn around for you."

"You really think so? Thanks but nobody knows anything for sure."

"Except-"

His voice falters as he slips the book back. It nestles between its worn neighbors and I wait patiently for his thoughts to connect.

"What?"

"Except for God," he whispers.

Right.

I nod slowly, weary of him and whatever it is he's studying.

"Do you...want to go out sometime? Something simple," he suggests. "Coffee date or movie marathon."

"That sounds lovely."

There's so much I want to know about you.

"Great," he exhales, fingers running through his coarse black hair. "Give me your phone."

I shoot him a questioning look and he laughs. "I'm just adding my number to your contacts. That's cool, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. Sorry," my cheeks flush. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"Do you blush often?"

My cheeks grow a deeper shade of crimson, whole face on fire.

"I guess so. That's a peculiar question."

"Peculiar," he laughs, emphasizing the word. "Maybe I'm a peculiar person."

"Everyone is strange in their own way."

"I like that Curly."

I bite my lip bashfully, eyes fixed on the floor.

"If you don't like it-"

"I like it a lot," I grin sheepishly.

"Good. Text me whenever you want to hang out. I'm pretty flexible...by the way you do have a heart. One of the biggest ones I've ever known."

His smile doesn't fade as he pivots on his heel. I want to tell him something but he's gone in a flash, so quick it was almost like he was transported.

I shake my head to clear the cobwebs in my mind.

He's so...different. For some reason unknown to me he feels the same pull; the same magnetic attraction.

When I get home I immediately check my work emails, one in particular sticking out.

We send our condolences to Dave Connell former CEO of-

I stop there, heart picking up speed. My eyes strain and I blink, rubbing at my eyelids.

This isn't real. I'm dreaming. How could my boss be dead? He was so young.

Nothing makes sense anymore. I rub at my temples before proceeding to read, scrolling down the page, anticipation growing.

A meeting will be held Monday morning at 8:00 AM sharp to address upcoming changes in the company.

"Oh dear God," I groan, flopping onto the bed. "This is actually happening."

What happened to him? Why was his death so unexpected? How did he die?

A deep shiver runs down my spine as it all sinks in. Everything in my life lately keeps leading back to death.

Maybe I'm paranoid. It isn't like death is following me around. I need to be more reasonable. I'll die when I die.

Relax.

That's the scary thing though. Death doesn't care about age or sex or how well off you are. Death doesn't favor certain people over others. The sick and the weak may die sooner but no one is exempt.

Death doesn't discriminate.


	9. death five

I roll over groaning, reaching for the snooze button on my alarm clock. It's too damn early to function. I sit up stretching and rub wearily at my eyelids, a tiny yawn escaping me.

My sheets are a tangled mess but I don't mind, burying myself under them.

What's it like to sleep with someone?

Naturally, Harry comes to mind. He provides warmth and laughter and all things synonymous with joy.

I'm precisely the opposite.

Somber settings, people clad in black and a spring of welling tears. Fears, aching and heartbreak.

Maybe that's why I'm attracted to him so much. He's clumsy and impatient but sweet and completely harmless.

People like him are rare. They deserve protection from the horrors of the world.

As of now, he isn't scared of me, I'm sure he'd nuzzle up right next to me, smile on his face. Or maybe I'd hold him because he would like that; the comfort and security of my strong, assured arms.

That is if he trusts me. He hasn't gained my trust yet. We hardly know each other.

Of course I want to know him  
I want details. Maybe eventually I'll know everything there is to know. Every dip and curve and freckle. Every flaw. Every weakness. All his favorite things. I'll memorize the way he looks in the sunlight, wind blowing through his hair and the twinkle is his eyes when he's excited. The way his hand fits so perfectly in mine.

Would he be scared me if he knew the truth? I'm sure he wouldn't believe me.

Imagine that discovery.

Yeah I'm friends with death...no, literally. I think he wants to kill me.

I snort, jolting as my phone buzzes on the nightstand beside me.

"Hello?"

"Hi Zayn."

A smile spreads across my face as my head falls back against my pillow with a soft thud.

"I know it's early but I really want to take you out for breakfast...if that's okay," he scrambles to get in those last words, talking a mile a minute and I chuckle.

"Yeah, of course. No work today?"

"I have a meeting later but my new boss is super chill. He wants me to use up some vacation days."

"That's great," I smirk. "Hopefully you'll enjoy work more now, maybe get that promotion."

"I highly doubt that," he laughs and I can feel him smile through the line.

You deserve happiness.

My heart sinks in my chest. Not me. He doesn't deserve me. I can't make him happy. All I bring is hurt and heartache.

"You doubt yourself too much. I believe in you, if that counts for anything."

"Of course," he sighs. "That means-"

I'm hanging onto his words, breath hitching, heart fluttering. The silence feels like eternity, worse than being burned until I can't feel any pain. Until I've become numb.

I don't want to be numb. He's the only thing that's ever made me feel.

"The world to me," he finishes softly. "I'll text you where to meet me, okay?"

"Okay," I grin foolishly, fingers running through my hair. "Is this...a date?"

"Um no, not unless you want it to be. It doesn't matter what we call it. I uh... just want to get to know you better."

He's so precious my heart is bursting.

"I really like you," I whisper. "You know that, right?"

"Zayn," he giggles. "Stop."

"Are you blushing?"

I'm quite amused, enjoying myself as I picture him, cheeks rosy, a mop of curls messily spilled on his pillow. I'm sure he's not still in bed but I like that image. So much so I try to commit it to memory.

I want my body over his, hands placed at his sides, emerald eyes staring up at me. No matter how many times I touch him, it's never enough.

"It's alright love. I'll see you soon."

...

Its so typical, a quaint little breakfast place nestled in the historic part of town, red brick overgrown with vines and crawling weeds. I wouldn't have expected anything else. I can picture him rushing here before work and grabbing a muffin or maybe some coffee...to hopefully not spill on somebody. Maybe sometimes he has more time and he relaxes, leans back and sips some tea, reading the newspaper like he's old-fashioned.

He's a vision, loose fitted button down and darkwash skinny jeans on, curls cascading down his shoulders.

"Wow," I exhale, pulling him in for a hug.

His body is so warm and his skin smells like water lilies. I'm hooked, unable to pull away, heart yearning.

"Zayn," he whispers. "You can let go."

Never.

"Sorry," I chuckle.

Attempting to be a complete gentleman, I pull out his chair and his cheeks flush and he sits down.

It's a two person table by the window. There aren't many people on the sidewalks yet but the restaurant is fairly busy, chatter filling up the small space.

I take in my surroundings; the pale blue color of the sky and the wispy white clouds. The woman talking too fast, phone pressed up against her ear as she jots something in a planner. All she has in a cup of coffee.

There's an older man eating french toast. He has a side of scrambled eggs, bacon and shredded hash browns. I notice how he puts entirely too much salt on his eggs, eyes staring blankly at the beige walls as he chews.

A man about my age is liberally spreading grape jam on a slice of toast. He eats quickly and messily, a half empty cup of orange juice next to his plate.

Then I look to the gorgeous human sat across from me. His eyes are soft, his smile warm.

"What sounds good Curly?"

"Everything," he admits, eyes scanning over the menu. "Blueberry pancakes or avocado toast?"

"Pancakes," I confirm. "Anyone can make avocado mash and put it on toast. Pancakes are different, they take job specialization."

"You really thought that through, huh?"

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. His laughter is bright and bubbly, making my heart skip a beat.

I settle on quiche lorraine which is unbelievably delicious.

There's whipped cream on the corner of his mouth and I wipe it away gently with my napkin.

"Thanks," he lowers his head, fingers fiddling with his straw wrapper.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I've just been overwhelmed lately, that's all. This is nice though...relaxing and not worrying about work."

"Tell me, what are some of your favorite things?"

He glances up at me, lashes batting.

"Music. Any kind really. It helps me unwind. That and Downtown Abbey," he grins.

"Really? Personally, I'm a Game of Thrones kind of guy. Do you like any particular music genres?"

"Well I really like Bon Iver and Iron and Wine. Slow, heavy stuff."

I nod, listening as I chew. Maybe it's strange but I like the sound of his voice; the way his eyes sparkle when he describes something he's passionate about.

"Music that really means something to you, that strikes a chord."

"Exactly," he gives a dimpled smile. "My mum is a big part of my life too but lately I've been neglecting her and I feel shitty about it."

I can't help but feel sorry as I look into those emerald eyes. All he wants for his mum is the best and here he is, thinking she doesn't how much he cares. I'm sure she does.

"As long as she knows how much you love her things will be okay. Sometimes important things slip our minds. We're busy, too caught up in working, in reaching financial goals and rushing around. For what though? Why can't people just stop and appreciate what they already have?"

His eyes are watery and I wonder if it's something I said, hand slipping over his comfortingly.

"Harry," I frown sympathetically.

"That's what I needed to hear. You're right...I just have to slow down and cherish all the wonderful people in my life."

"Hey," my hand moves to cup his face, thumb stroking the velvet smooth cheek. His eyes close and my heart is racing at how responsive he is to my touch.

Goodness, he's so beautiful.

"Why are you so hard on yourself? Hmm?"

A tear evaporates beneath the warm pad of my thumb and I'm swallowing the lump in my throat. I don't want him to hurt.

His eyes snap open and I'm tempted to lean in and press my lips to his. It's too soon but I've been observing him for so long now it feels like I've known him forever.

"This is so embarrassing," he sniffles. "I get so damn emotional."

"Not at all, I find your sensitivity quite attractive."

After finishing our meals and fighting over who will pick up the bill for a good ten minutes we finally decide to split the cost and then he's heading off to work to attend his meeting.

I watch him leave, his figure passing my the window. My heart clenches up in my chest.

It was too short.

This is going to hurt me just as much as him. If I was smart I'd walk away now.

But I'm not thinking with my brain.

I'm thinking with my heart.


	10. Harry

Long conference tables and swivel chairs are the first thing I notice when I walk in. That and the fact that everyone is staring at me.

To say I'm uncomfortable is a complete understatement. That is until everyone starts clapping and my body eases a bit.

"What's the meaning of this?"

I shake my head slightly, chuckling.

"Congratulations Harry, your colleagues and I think your hard work ethic and passion for what you do make you the best candidate for the promotion. How would you like manager tacked to your name and a nice pay increase?"

"You're joking."

"Hopefully you'll enjoy work more now, maybe get that promotion."

Unbelievable. My hand shakily cups over my mouth, eyes wide as the realization hits me.

I did it.

"I don't tolerate nepotism in the workplace. You deserved this."

"Woah," I exhale. "I don't know what to say. Thank you all so much. You are all so amazing and this means so incredibly much to me. I love coming to work to all of your faces. Geez," I wipe away a tear. "I'm getting all sappy. Special thanks to you Ben. You're awesome."

He grins and gives me a big bear hug, patting my back.

"This was all on you," he says in a hushed tone. "I expect great things from you. Do not disappoint me."

I won't mess this up. I won't, I won't, I won't.

Everything is falling into place, puzzle pieces snapping together. My heart has wings that flutter in my chest. I'm giddy and dizzy with excitement about what the future has in store for me.

I'm fidgety as I sit through the meeting, chewing on my pen cap as he explains some financial data and goes over a few Excel spreadsheets.

All I want to do is call my mum...and for some reason Zayn.

They'd both be so proud of me. I adjust my shirt collar and gaze out the window.

Ninth floor views. It's spectacular.

It's a lovely day, fluffy clouds filling the vast baby blue sky.

When the meeting is dismissed I stop outside for a moment, just soaking everything in. The sun is warm on my skin and I spot a fuzzy dog on the sidewalk, tail wagging as it stops and sniffs my ankle.

"Hi there little fella."

His owner smiles as I pet his head and he pants, tiny pink tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.

"You're such a cutie," I chuckle.

The woman tugs gently on his leash and they trot off. I'm still standing frozen in place, stupid grin on my face when a familiar face approaches.

"Harry Styles? No way!"

"Niall," I reply excitedly, pulling him in for a bone crushing hug.

His Irish accent is thicker than ever, brown roots bleeding through his blond dyed hair.

"Long time no see. How are ya mate?"

He cards his fingers through his hair, aquamarine eyes twinkling as he awaits my response.

"I'm great. What's up? We lost touch for a bit."

"Oh," he frowns. "Nana was really sick again. I was back in Ireland."

"I'm sorry about that Ni. I haven't been the best friend. Really, I should have tried harder to reach you."

"Me too," he shrugs. "I figured you were busy. I know how stressful work is."

"Do you want to hang sometime? It'll be just like old times."

"That sounds nice. Do you still talk to Liam and Lou?"

"Occasionally," I scratch the back of my neck. What a lie. "Our paths don't cross much anymore," I add sadly.

"I get that. We should all meet up. Remember our uni days?"

I like reminiscing. Times were so simple then. All I cared about was taking notes and chugging cheap beer. Wild dancing and parties and cramming for exams.

Liam was always the most mature; the most responsible. However, I was still pretty studious. Niall cared but skipped class frequently and quite frankly I don't know how Louis got a degree but he managed to scrape by. I laugh at the memory. We were a motley crew. Niall is looking at me fondly, like he's thinking the same thing.

"Good times," I sigh. "I really miss them."

"Yeah me too Haz."

Haz. That takes me back. We could stay here for ever and start off sentences with remember when.

It was so crazy. I've never laughed so hard. I cannot believe-

"How is work going by the way?"

"Well," I clear my throat, cheeks flushing. "I just got a promotion."

"Shit! No kidding. We should go out and celebrate tonight. Have a little fun," he winks. "Have you found someone yet or are you still exploring your options?"

"There's this one guy-"

"Say no more," he smirks. "Introduce me to him."

"Niall I don't think-"

He's cutting me off again. Not rudely by any means but enthusiastically.

"Invite him to come along with us. It'll be fun. Please," he whines, big blue eyes pleading with me.

"Alright. Only because I really owe you and I want to catch up."

He cheers and I'm surprised by how easily I caved.

Then again, it's hard to resist someone as cheery as Niall Horan.

...

"Hey Curly. Miss me already?"

I roll my eyes as I feel him smirk through the line.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out later. A friend of mine I haven't seen in awhile wants to get some drinks and I'd feel more comfortable if I was with you."

"Oh," his voice perks up. "Sure. Whatever makes things less awkward for you."

"Thanks Zayn. Today was indescribable."

I tug off my boots and sit on the edge of my bed, smile on my face.

"I'm assuming your meeting went well."

"How'd you know?"

It's quiet. There's no sound but the tick of my heart and the whir of the ceiling fan.

Sometimes I get so lonely I could-

"What do you mean?"

"I got the promotion! How did you know?"

For some reason my heart is pounding in my chest. I'm so nervous waiting for his response it's killing me.

"I'm so happy for you Harry. I told you things would work out okay...it was an instinct I guess."

"Things are better than okay. I have this feeling things are going to look up. There are so many opportunities heading my way, I just have to be positive and stay on track. Lately I've been caught up in things that don't matter but I'm starting to understand what truly matters and that includes your friendship."

There's more silence but I wait. I'll always wait.

"You still there?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers. "I've gotta go. Text me later, okay?"

It's so urgent; so rushed. In a matter of seconds the line goes dead and I'm left feeling confused and somewhat hurt.

Does he want me the way I want him? Why do I feel this way so soon? Why are the feelings so strong? What if I scare him away?

I'm desperately trying to sort through my emotions, attempting to make sense of it all but I just can't.

When you care about someone you abandon all rational thought.

All you know is that you want to be with them. You want to be touching in some form. Fingertips brushing, legs tangled in sheets...anything. You're never close enough.

They're on your mind all the time and you have no idea why you can't shake it.

Of course you don't really mind because

sometimes

they're all you have worth living for


	11. death six

My phone screen lights up. It's a message from him and I'm fumbling for the device, thumbs padding across the virtual keyboard.

I'll be there

The location is familiar to me, a nightclub on the East side of town. It's always crawling with people. There aren't any sequin dresses or chardonnay. No spritz of Versace perfume in the air or Chanel clutches. You never see men with popped collars and vivid, bright smiles. It's dingy and cramped, the place packed with handsy men and bold women. The style is avant garde, the music provocative.

It certainly isn't a place I would picture Harry. It's cheap draft beer and fist fights.

The irony of it all is the name itself.

Swanky.

As if. If grinding under strobe lights is considered lavish we have a major problem on our hands.

The whole idea is unsettling and I'm glad I agreed to tag along. I know nothing about his friend and it would be so easy for him to get carried away; to let someone take advantage of him. Chills creep up my spine and I force myself not to think about it.

Maybe this will be fun and we can get to know each other better. Besides, he deserves a celebration. One night out can't hurt.

You'd never disappoint 😊

I feel my heart soften like warm wax, grip on my phone loosening. How can someone possibly be so precious?

Melt me Harry.

My hair is a tousled mess. I attempt to fix it, running fingers through it. I figure I look decent enough but find myself brushing my teeth twice. I'm always paranoid I have bad breath or something stuck between my teeth.

I hail a cab and the driver cranks up the radio, some awful static music coming through the airwaves. It's better than chatting with him. His hair is greasy and slick, face pudgy. He seems like a nice enough guy but his cologne is so strong I nearly puke on the backseat.

He gets me to the club so I have no complaints, gladly slipping him money for the commute.

When I step inside my heart is racing, body fighting to get pass a mass of sweaty bodies, shirts stuck to slick skin.

He's easy to spot, laughter spilling out of him as he leans into a man's side.

I tap on his shoulder and a smile spreads across his face. He pulls me in for a hug, introducing me as a close friend.

"Niall," the lad says cheerily. He has pretty cobalt blue eyes and soft blond tufts of hair. "These are my mates Liam and Louis."

Liam has soft chocolate brown eyes and a warm smile. He looks dependable and strong; arms buff, posture relaxed.

The other one has sandy brown hair and crystal clear eyes, sly smirk on his face. He seems like the troublemaker of the group but extends his hand, giving mine a firm shake.

"Harry told us a lot about you."

"Oh," I say surprised, turning to Harry. His cheeks flush and I feel awful about his friend putting him on the spot like that. "You did? That's nice, I was really looking forward to this," I smile.

The tenseness seems to leave his body and he gives a lopsided grin.

"I'm glad."

I want to get away from his friends. It seems rude but his gaze is unwavering and you could slice the tension between us with a knife. All I want is me and him without interruption.

"Harry doesn't usually go for stuff like this," Liam chimes in. "Niall managed to reel us all together. It's been awhile since we all had a boys' night."

"I understand. Sometimes it's nice to stop and slow down...reconnect."

"Exactly," Harry exhales. "We all needed this."

"Well, I think we should celebrate your big promotion. First round of drinks on me."

"Shit Haz, where has this man been my whole life?"

Liam rolls his eyes and playfully punches his friend's shoulder.

"Hush Lou," Niall chirps. "Nobody asked ya."

In a matter of minutes I've decided I like Harry's friend group. They're all accepting of me, happy to share a few crazy tales and side splitting jokes.

Harry keeps shaking his head at their wild behavior, wry smile on his face. He swishes around his glass but only takes a few staggered sips.

Louis is definitely the most excited about the alcohol, his veins must be swimming in it.

"Let's dance," Niall suggests. "You're all a bunch of stiffs."

"I can't dance," I frown as he tugs at my shirtsleeve.

"Nonsense," he snorts. "Anyone can dance. You might not dance well but-"

"Ni," Harry scolds. "He doesn't want to."

Liam furrows his brows together, caught off guard my Harry's snappy remark. Frankly, I am too. I lean into him, tucking a curl behind his ear as I whisper.

"Why so defensive babe?"

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," I chuckle. "I've changed my mind anyway. Care to dance with me?"

"Not really."

When I glance back up his friends are nowhere to be seen. That is until I see Louis grinding on the dance floor and Niall getting lost in the rhythm, hips swaying slightly. I've completely lost track of Liam but Harry is still with me and that's what counts the most.

"Aren't you excited? We're here to celebrate, have a little fun. Ease up a bit, yeah?"

I won't be satisfied until there's a twinkle in his eyes and happiness blossoming inside his heart.

He gives me a hesitant look but I take his hand in mine and lead him onto the dance floor.

"I'm moving," I shout over the blaring music. "Look!"

It's embarrassing, how terrible I am at dancing but he tosses his head back as he laughs and starts to find the beat, hips swiveling.

I don't care about the sweat glistening on my body or the cramped tightness of the place. It doesn't matter that the bass rocks and shakes the floor or that someone bumps into me.

It's something I haven't felt in a long time.

I'm out of my mind, placing my hands gently on his hips. My knees bend slightly as I press up against him. His body reacts instantly. It seems so natural, his bum pressing to my front. He lets me take the lead but knows how to move, grinding slowly to let the pressure build. I slip one hand to his inner thigh and he gasps. My thumb traces little circles and his head falls back onto my shoulder. My lips attach to his neck and his breathing grows more labored.

Usually I'd have more self-control but he looks so beautiful.

"Zayn," he breathes out.

It sends vibrations straight to my cock and I'm fighting to keep it together. My mouth keeps working, sucking little bruises, tongue flicking over his smooth flesh.

"I think you're an amazing dancer," I whisper hotly.

My teeth tug at his earlobe and a small whimper escapes him.

"Wait, stop."

I do immediately, worry and panic setting in.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I-"

"I don't want to be here," he mutters.

"Harry I'm really sorry. This was stupid of me. I can take you home or I can find one of your friends to-"

He turns to face me, emerald eyes sparkling. You fucked this up Zayn.

"Yeah, they're my mates and it's nice spending time with them but I just want to be alone with you," he turns away shyly. "Not here."

"I thought it would just be you and one other friend. At first I was intimidated by them but they're all nice. You really told them about me?"

"Yeah of course, I feel like you're a significant part of my life now. I hope we'll always remains friends...and that we'll only grow closer. There's so much I still don't know."

"What is there to know?"

His eyes search mine desperately and I'm pulling him into my arms, hand on his cheek, thumb skimming his bottom lip.

"Everything."


	12. Harry

"You feel safe," I snuggle closer and his fingers card through my hair.

"What's your worst fear?"

My eyes squeeze shut, heart clenching up in my chest.

"I don't know," I whisper softly. It's an honest answer but not a clear one. He's warmer than usual, hand soft as it caresses my cheek.

"Sometimes I'm scared of this."

My heart is quivering at his confession.

"Who hurt you Zayn?"

I don't miss the way his hand trembles or the hurt expression worn on his face.

"It's human nature to trust too easily, to fall too hard, too fast. Someone always ends up hurt. Life delivers pain and heartache and-"

My mind is filling in the blank and I swallow thickly. Death.

"Harry-"

I'm getting hopelessly lost in his eyes, our legs tangled, trying to figure out how we ended up huddled beneath my bed sheets. I don't care if it's stupid, developing feelings for someone so quickly. Maybe I don't know much but what I do know about Zayn is enough.

"Please don't be scared of me."

"I would never."

We've been like this for several hours, sharing secrets and swapping kisses.

His favorite color is green so naturally he has a thing for my eyes. He can't remember the last time he laughed so much but I know just what to say. Thank goodness, his laughter is too beautiful to be locked up inside of him. If he had to eat the same thing for the rest of his life it would be freshly baked naan. He loves the smell of lotus, musk and amber. He's well aware cigarettes are bad for you but something about inhaling the toxins and letting the smoke fill his lungs is calming, it settles his nerves. He has tried to quit for a good two years now. He likes R&B and old soul music and singing along to the radio. You'll never catch him in sandals and he absolutely hates summer.

On that note, his favorite season is winter. The way he describes freshly fallen snow and slow burning cinnamon candles makes me appreciate it more. The crackle of a fireplace, the snap of logs and huddling beneath blankets, it's all a far away dream. He prefers January when he can wear a thick knit jumper and drink warm tea. He likes reclining in a chair and immersing himself in a book. His favorite cookie is snickerdoodle and he loves the feeling of fuzzy socks.

Zayn tells me more meaningful stuff too, like how he's afraid of losing people.

I assure him I'm not going anywhere.

"I'm a constant."

"A constant," he echoes, voice a mere murmur. "My constant star, always shedding brightness in the dark."

We're both leaning in at the same time, feeling the same spark. There's a fire igniting my bones. Every fiber of my being is aching for more. I've become so greedy, so hungry. My body is fueled by passion.

I see the flicker of desire in his honey colored eyes. He's pinning me to the bed, scattering kisses all over. My eyelashes brush against cheeks as I close my eyes, letting him control me. My body hums for him.

It's something I've never felt before with anyone.

"Zayn," I whisper. "Can I tell you something?"

He stops, hand on my rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Of course."

"Louis and I used to date...way back. If you felt any animosity from him it's-"

"Is he jealous, does he still have feelings for you?"

It wouldn't matter.

"Possibly but I want you. When you touch me I forget how to breathe."

"Sounds dangerous," he teases, thumb gently parting my lips.

His tongue is so wet and slick as it slips into my mouth I'm swallowing back a moan.

He knows just where to touch me, thumb stroking beneath my jaw as the kiss deepens.

Are we moving too fast? If so, why does it feel so damn right?

This is all so new to me, a quick rush to my head. All I feel is waves of pleasure, my mind going blank.

He freezes and his arms envelope me, hands lost in my messy curls. He presses an obscenely wet kiss to the nape of my neck and I shiver.

"Keep me warm Harry."

My heart is thudding louder, skipping around in my chest as his fingers graze over the love bites he left on the crook of my neck.

He kisses me there so softly my heart is weeping at his tenderness. Then he nibbles at my earlobe and I giggle as it tickles my sensitive skin.

"Your heart is so warm Zayn."

He pauses and reaches around me, clutching our hands together.

Tell me how we fit, how we're so comfortable like this. I feel content, slow heartbeat nearly lulling me to sleep.

"I'm scared you'll leave too," I mutter. "Abandonment is my worst fear.

His voice breaks as he says "I'll always be with you. I'm capable of love," he whispers.

"I won't hurt you Zayn. Love isn't something you should fear."

"But it is," he replies anguished.

"You can do anything. You can love anyone, feel anything. You have a heart."

His breath is warm, fanning across my neck.

"You're so beautiful Harry, inside and out."

My cheeks are flushing, heart picking up speed again. How does he do that?

"You know that, don't you? You deserve the world, so much more than a round of free drinks and a promotion. You deserve to be cherished. When is the last time someone did that?"

Not in so long.

"I can't remember."

"What about Louis? Did he love every flaw and leave a trail of kisses on your skin?"

It was sloppy make-out sessions and drunk sex. I wish I would have saved myself for-

"Nothing we had was meaningful. It was a friends with benefits type of thing."

"Did he make you feel good?"

"Yes but we weren't invested in each other. My heart wasn't in it."

He hums, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

"What does your body need?"

"More affection."

You sound so desperate.

"And your heart?"

Time stops. Everything stops, my heart dipping. My eyes close and his hand slips out of mine, moving to tuck a loose curl behind my ear.

"No one has ever asked me that," I whisper back truthfully.

"Let me take care of it."


	13. death seven

He doesn't stir as the bed shifts beneath my weight. I'm a heartbeat away from getting up when his eyelids flutter open.

Bright, warm morning light is filtering through his crisp white curtains. There's a tiny ring of gold around his black pupils, emerald eyes glimmering.

His skin is pale, cheeks flushed, curls spilling over the creased pillowcase.

"Morning angel," I stroke his forehead and dip down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

He lets out a pitiful whine, grabbing at me. I chuckle, letting him pull me back down beside him.

"We're cuddling all day since I'm off work."

"Are we?" I grin, stroking his scalp and he purrs. "I think we should do something fun."

"No," he pouts, running at his eyelids wearily.

"You're still sleepy aren't you babe?"

He nuzzles into my side, hair tickling the crook of my neck.

"I have class later."

It's such a horrible lie. I'm mentally cursing myself but I already told him I'm in uni. My heart hurts because I've already grown too attached and I don't want to be apart.

Harry makes me feel human. He makes me feel more alive than I've ever been.

All I know for certain is that he's soft and warm, skin as smooth as velvet. His heart is tender and kind. Sensitive but unlike mine, never callous.

I'm cruel and unforgiving but I am trying my hardest to change. He's doing that to me, making me a better person.

That doesn't mean I can completely transform. I still take innocent lives, I'll never be as pure as Harry.

I've learned to accept that. What I'll never accept is that it's my responsibility to kill him.

Why'd I let myself form such a strong bond? Everything hurts.

I'm not supposed to feel. I'd rather be numb.

But he kisses me and it suddenly strikes me was feeling something is so rare and so special. I wanted this for years. I was so alone.

Now someone cares about me. We're close, his heart and my heart are dear friends.

It's a feathery light kiss but it means absolutely everything. My body is dissolving and it doesn't matter.

"Skip."

"That's a rebellious thing to do," I joke.

His irises grow darker, turning a deep shade of green like the middle of a forest.

"You can't always be innocent."

I'm stunned, heart tumbling in my chest. There are so many naughty things I want to do to him.

When you've lacked physical touch for years, your desire consumes you.

"I thought you were my angel," I murmur, thumb grazing his hairline.

"If I'm an angel what does that make you?"

My lips are finding the shell of his ear, hands tugging at his curls.

"Your worst nightmare."

I feel his body shudder but he doesn't leave any space between us, just continues searching my face, hand cupping my jaw.

"Bring it."

Our lips are crashing together and I'm thinking of every little detail. The freckles dotting the bridge of his nose and that tiny scar on his cheekbone. It makes the kiss that much sweeter. The curvature of his pale body, porcelain skin littered with tattoos. Those little leaves, that damn butterfly...everything. I'm slipping one hand between his thighs, stroking him through his boxers. He mewls into my mouth but I don't tease for long.

"Zayn," he pants out, eyes filled to the brim with tears.

"Angel," I whisper, tucking him in my arms. "I won't leave you."

His lips are swollen, cheeks tinted bright pink and I want to pick up were I left off but I just can't.

"It's okay, I know school is important and I'm being selfish."

Fuck, that hurts. This is all so wrong. I'm horrible.

"No you aren't babe."

"It's been so long since I-"

Felt so damn close to someone. Wanted to touch and taste and devour. Since I felt pleasure. Since I experienced intimacy. My heart is exploding at the thought. My body is begging.

I feel myself growing hard and I want that pretty mouth wrapped around me.

His erection is growing too, pressed up against me.

Help him out Zayn.

"Seeing Louis again felt surreal."

"How so?"

He's wiping at his eyelids with the back of his hand.

"He embarrassed me. I fucking gave him everything and then he...did you see that amused little smirk on his face? Yeah, obviously I have feelings for you. He didn't have to point it out, he-"

"Breathe babe," I chuckle.

"I can't," his voice is broken; breaths ragged. "I gave myself to him Zayn. Then he just left me."

Oh. I'm so stupid and insensitive.

"Harry I didn't...I'm sorry angel. Don't cry."

I kiss his jaw and all the way down his neck. I'm sucking bruises at his collarbone, watching his eyes flutter closed.

"Zayn," he moans softly, hips bucking beneath me.

I'm sure he never touched him like this.

My fingers trail down his sides, skimming his delicate ribcage. I can feel his pulse strumming, chest heaving as my finger swirls around his bellybutton. There's a trail of dark hair there, all the way down to his waistband and I'm kissing a wet, wandering path there, thumbs stroking his hips.

I'm a tease. Stopping before kissing all the back up, hands fondling his hardened nipples, rolling them between my tanned fingers. Pretty baby pink little buds, softening inside my warm mouth. My tongue flicks over them, tracing tiny circles and he's rutting against the bedsheets.

Not such a bad day off.

He hisses as I tug with my teeth, fists clenching up the sheets. He already looks like a beautiful wreck beneath me, rosy lips swollen, hair tangled. There's a sheen of sweat at his forehead, one little bead sliding down his temple as I stop to lick it away. His cheeks are glowing.

He's fucking radiant. A true angel. All he needs is wings. His mess of curls is a bright halo, body rumpling the cloud white sheets.

"You okay angel?"

He's biting his bottom lip, the noise he elicits from his mouth fucking obscene, making my entire body shiver.

My hand rests on his chest.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Should have saved myself for you," he whispers.

And he looks at me like there's something in me worth looking at.


	14. Harry

"Wait, Zayn!"

He freezes, hand still on the doorknob.

I wrap my arms around him and gently peck his cheek.

"Have a wonderful time in class, don't study too hard. You'll hurt your brain."

"Okay," he chuckles. "I can assure you I won't."

My smile fades as soon as he's gone. He's being replaced with a cool gust of air and I shiver. I release a heavy sigh and head into the kitchen to brew some tea.

I think maybe I'll take some photos today. The season is starting to change, the crisp feeling of fall is in the air. Burnt orange and rusty brown hues, leaves scattered about.

Instead I sit at my desk, lamp switched on, pouring my heart out on a sheet of paper.

Why is it that when I look up the word beautiful in the dictionary the synonyms are all pertaining to physical attributes? What constitutes the word beautiful? How come I cry over hateful comments and rude stares? Why am I upset by bitterness? Why does it hurt when someone tells me it's wrong to be gay? That I'm sick? Why is it that when I look up the word happy I end up searching for a list of things? Do material things make me happy? Is that what happiness is now? Why do I care so much about what my co-workers think of me? Why'd I work so hard for that promotion? Is money the solution to all my problems? Is it normal to feel trapped? Some people call me successful. They congratulate me but I certainly don't feel special. What is there to celebrate? What should I be seeking in life? For some reason I feel empty. It's like my heart is a hallow shell and my body is numb and all I want to know is why.

Why do I only feel complete when I'm with you? Are you my happiness? What things do you consider beautiful about me?

I've never been so confused. Depression is clawing at my insides, I just want to itch my skin until it sheds off.

Have you ever been this lonely? I'm trying to find a purpose. Maybe it's you.

Maybe I don't want you to ever experience that type of hurt again or feel the way I am right now.

I want to help you but I can't even fix myself.

Do you ever just want to die?

My hand is trembling, grip so tight on the pen my knuckles turn white.

Is this what I want? What is happening to me? I have everything I could ever want.

A tear rolls down my cheek, staining the paper. Ink smears, runs across the page and sobs rack my body as I crumple right there, forehead colliding with my desk.

He called me an angel. That counts for something, right? I'm still sniffling, nose runny as I sit up.

My phone is ringing and I quickly pick it up, heart pounding in my chest.

"Harry mate, I've been worried sick."

"Sorry," I mumble. "My phone was turned off."

"Where did you go? I thought someone abducted you or something. You could have been dead in a ditch somewhere."

"Relax," I assure softly. "Zayn took me home."

"Zayn?" It's like I can feel him frowning through the line. "How well do you know this bloke exactly? Were you drunk?"

"Liam," I groan. "It isn't like we had sex. We just talked."

It sounds pathetic and not very believable but it's the honest truth.

"You...talked?"

He's suspicious, doubt fogging his mind and I desperately want to clear it up.

"Yeah about insecurities and things I don't really want to share. Is that a problem?'

He exhales loudly and I shrink back in my chair.

"Things the lads and I don't already know about?"

"Look," I snap. "Louis was a total asshat and you know it. What happened between us is over. The feelings were never real. If I want to confide in my fucking friend I will."

Why am I being such a jerk? I'm horrible.

"Woah okay. What's with the attitude Styles?"

"We hadn't spoken in years and then suddenly you call me up and want to hang out. Why? Do you want something from me?"

"I can't believe this! Are you fucking serious mate? I felt bad about how our friendship ended. I'm sorry I took Lou's side but I thought all was forgiven now. I just want us to be friends again. He was young and immature. We were all foolish back then, weren't we? We had dreams too big for our heads and we thought the world was ours to claim. You know I recently moved back...maybe I wanted you back too."

My heart is shattering in my chest. I feel so terrible. Liam would never hurt me. He's asking about Zayn because he cares.

"I love you Harry. In the most platonic way."

That makes my body ease and laughter spills out of me. He's chuckling too and I want to throw my arms around him.

Liam was always a brother to me. Strong, sturdy arms and safety. Innocent chocolate brown eyes and a smile that makes your heart warm. He's assured words and soft tones.

Zayn is strong as well. His walk feels powerful, touch protective. He's safe too but it feels different. He isn't safe in a familiar or friendly type of way but in an affectionate way. Though he's tender, Zayn is driven by urgency and passionate emotions. He feels everything deeply and fully.

I think maybe he loves me too but not like Liam does.

Maybe.

"It's good that you want to pursue something. I'm happy for you, just be careful. I don't want you to get hurt."

"That's the thing," I mutter under my breath. "He'd do anything to ensure harm never comes my way."

"I'll have a chat with Louis."

"No," I say frantically. "It's alright. That's all behind us now. I'm sure he doesn't want to dwell on the past. I'll talk to you soon Li."

"Bye H."

I'm feeling a bit better but there's still something missing. I can't quite put my finger on it.

I shake away the eerie feeling and pull on a hoodie. I put on my camera strap, grab my wallet, my keys and tuck my phone in my pocket.

...

Going to the park always helps with my depression. There are children frolicking in piles of leaves and furry dogs wagging their tails happily.

A woman is pushing a stroller, stopping to catch her breath and I give up my spot on the bench so she can sit down.

"Thank you dear," she smiles.

"Adorable baby," I grin.

She's looking up at me with big blue eyes, cooing. I tickle her tummy and her tiny finger latches onto my pinkie.

"I think she likes you," her mum chuckles.

"May I hold her?"

Her brows arch in surprise. I can tell she's a bit stunned and unsure if she should so willingly hand her baby over to a stranger but then she nods and I scoop the chubby child into my arms.

Life is precious. I always forget that. What a gift. What an absolute miracle she is.

She giggles as I blow air on her stomach, tiny feet kicking. It gets her a bit too excited so I rock her gently, until her thumb is in her mouth and she's too sleepy to keep her eyes closed.

"My goodness," the woman gasps. "You're amazing."

I carefully transfer the baby back to her mother, who ruffles her tufts of strawberry blonde hair.

"Mind if I snap a photo?"

"Not at all love."

What I capture is the purest thing ever, a mother gazing down fondly at her creation. Soft skin, chubby cheeks and a steadily beating heart.

"You'll be a great father someday," she whispers, so as not to wake the baby.

"Thank you," I bite back a grin.

Of course I capture other things. The trees with their multi-colored leaves and the vast cloudless sky but out of all of them the baby is the one that makes my heart sigh.


	15. death eight

+mature

"You want me to come over?"

Chills spread across my skin as I sink onto my bed, phone pressed to my ear.

"I can't sleep," he whispers.

It's a desperate whisper. One that conveys so much pain I'm left trying to figure out what it is that's keeping him up at night.

It feels like a puncture wound straight to the heart.

"I'm not okay Zayn."

Uttered so softly my ears are straining. What does he mean by that?

"Hold on angel. I'll be there soon."

There's hardly any traffic. It's pitch black outside, the moon a tiny crescent hanging in the sky.

It's frigid, the wind chilling me to my core as I walk up to his porch. I knock but there's no answer. I'm trying to keep my composure as I give him a call. Pick up, pick up.

He answers on the first ring. "Zayn?" His voice is strained, like he's choking back tears and in an ironic twist it's killing me.

"I'm here babe. Open the door."

The door flies open and he throws his arms around me, tears soaking my shirtsleeve. I'm startled, nearly dropping my phone but I manage to slip it into my back pocket. My hand gently rubs the small of his back, every part of me shattering.

"It's okay," I murmur. "I'm here."

My fingers trace up his spine, I can feel his heartbeat pressed against me.

"Shh."

His hair feels fluffy as my fingers move up the nape of his neck and card through his curls.

I massage his scalp and his cries grow silent. His body eventually stops trembling but I refuse to let go.

He's warm and familiar and he smells like jasmine, coconut milk and honey.

"I'm always so tired."

"I know," I pull back, hand traveling to cup his cheek. "We can cuddle, okay?"

He latches onto my hand and I lead him into his room. We strip down to underwear, the tension in the room weighing heavily.

"Talk to me babe."

We flop onto the bed. My heart is ticking quietly, silence filling the air, the space between us gaping.

"Why is life so horrible? Why is it so unfair? I mean...I can't even begin to to think of my life as unfortunate. There are people with no family, no home to go to, no vision, no hearing. Some people have close to nothing. They're just skin and bones and tired eyes. They're muck and grime and tattered clothes. Then there are those who are lucky, who are blessed beyond belief and take it all for granted. Sometimes I feel like the people who deserve the most in life are met with the hardest circumstances...with the harshest reality. And sometimes they face the cruelest death."

I'm swallowing the lump in my throat, far too weak to comfort him, tears welling in my eyes.

"I'm sorry," my syllables come out as pathetic broken pieces.

"It isn't your fault," he sniffles.

Oh God.

"Harry," I sigh deeply.

He turns, wet emerald eyes meeting mine.

"I'm not good for you. I want to protect you from harm, I desperately want to make you happy but-"

"Stop," he pleads, rubbing at his temples. "Don't you dare say that. If there's something you're hiding just be honest with me. I care about you so much."

"C'mere," I murmur. He's reluctant but moves closer, snuggling against my side. "I want you to trust me."

I've killed people. A lot of people. Way too many to count. I became numb.

But then I met you.

And everything changed.

"You can tell me anything," he says reassuringly. "It wouldn't make me-"

Say it. Finish your thoughts.

My heart is fluttering as I fill it in myself.

Love you any less.

That's what I would say because I love Harry. Is that what he's thinking about me though? Or am I chasing false hope?

If I love him, should I let him go? If I were to walk away now things would be so much easier.

He deserves more than one month. One month left to experience all the things he's ever wanted... but maybe I can do that for him.

"What's something you've always dreamt about?"

"This," he smiles, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Our fingers lace together, our hearts sighing collectively. "Us. We should paint it," he says, reading my thoughts, eyes flicking up.

"I wish I could harness the moon and tug it down with a rope. Or string up the stars in your room so you'll never be in the dark."

"You're so romantic."

"Let's bring the constellations inside."

It's a wild suggestion but we both settle on it quickly. Glow in the dark paint. The big dipper and scattered stars.

"The universe is so hard to fathom Zayn. Think about how insignificant we are. There are whole other planets and undiscovered life. It's infinite. We merely occupy space. Time is just something we've constructed."

Sometimes I get so lost in his thoughts. Everything he says is so meaningful; so beautiful I wonder how a mortal can be so fascinating.

Time is on a different spectrum for me but I think I understand.

"You are not insignificant Harry Styles."

He grins and I kiss his cheek.

"No?"

"Never," I reply soothingly. "The time I spend with you feels like eternity. Still...it's never enough."

"For heaven's sake," he exhales. "I don't care what mistakes you made in the past. You always find a way to make my heart skip a beat and I can't thank you enough."

That's what we'll do, create our own heaven. Bodies buried beneath a plush white comforter that feels like a cloud, gazing up at the twinkling stars.

You're my heaven. You're my heaven. You're my heaven.

"You're my angel."

My thumb presses to his bottom lip, parting his mouth and the tip of his tongue touches the pad of it. It bends as his cheeks hallow around it, softening my skin.

For some reason I don't want to take it out. It feels so incredibly good. His tongue hitting that groove over and over. It's sending me to the edge.

I've never felt anything quite like this.

"Such a good boy. So sweet, my angel."

It pulls out with an obscene pop, completely slicked up. I press it against his boxers and he squirms.

"What do you do to me?"

He gasps as I feel him through his thin cotton fabric, wet thumb stroking him.

"Oh fuck," he pants.

"Such naughty word," I tease, mouth working at his jaw.

"Please," he whispers.

"What's that?"

His eyelids close, his breathing shallow. My movements grow still as I wait patiently for him.

I have all the time in the world.

"Beg for me love."

"Help me Zayn, please."

He needs this to alleviate stress, to reduce some of his anxiety. He deserves to feel good. I owe him that much.

I tug down his boxers and admire him, hand cupping his length, thumb swirling over his sensitive tip.

The male body is so astoundingly beautiful.

You're my heaven.

I lick from his shaft up that little strip of vein, tongue pressing flat against him and his body twitches.

I'm taking him in my mouth, tongue swirling and his hips buck suddenly, back arching.

It's a quick, warm release straight into my mouth but I don't mind.

His cheeks are flushed and his arm splays across his sticky forehead.

"That was so quick," he blushes. "I'm so sorry. Did you...swallow it?"

I chuckle at his bashfulness and that bit of innocence he still has..

"No, I made it disappear."

"Okay arsehole," he gives a dimpled little grin.

My elbows give out beneath me and I tuck him in my arms.

"You're always so warm," I mumble. "My little radiator."

He giggles and the heat spreads through me.

"I'm supposed to make you feel that way."

His fingers get lost in my hair and he smiles so softly I'm aching.

"Thank you Zayn."

"For what?"

My breath hitches at his words

"For being my dream."

"Your worst nightmare."

"Bring it."

"Sometimes they come true," I press my nose to his, chest rising and falling steadily, heart finding a cadence.

"I think I'm falling," he whispers.

"No worries angel. A dream is a soft place to land."


	16. Harry

He's still asleep, raven hair spilled across the pillow.

Zayn is beautiful in an unexplainable way. I press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth and quietly sneak into the kitchen.

I hum quietly as I put some toast in the toaster but I'm startled as arms wrap around my waist, heart jumping out of my chest.

"Morning angel," he says groggily, voice raspy.

His lips find the crook of my neck and a deep shiver runs down my spine.

"I'm trying to concentrate here," I chuckle. "Do you want burnt toast?"

His knuckles graze my jaw and I swear I'm going to lose it.

"Do you always cook in your underwear? I could get used to this."

"Shut up," I laugh lightly.

There's a ding as the slices pop up and I spread a generous amount of almond butter on them and slice up some bananas, sprinkling chia seeds on top.

"This was really basic," I shrug as I hand him a plate. "I make it a lot though because it's quick and simple."

He takes a bite and licks some nut butter off his thumb, before smirking.

"Maybe so but it's delicious."

His golden eyes are glimmering in the early morning sunlight, cheeks glowing.

He looks ethereal, a pleasant ambiance about him, his edges soft.

When he finishes off his toast, I reel him in, fingers fisted in his hair. He's taken by surprise but quickly takes the lead, backing me up against the counter, hands bracketing my waist.

His lips taste sweet, hands gentle. He pulls away, ruffling my hair.

"Anything I could have done better?"

His head tilts to the side, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Add a drizzle of honey."

"Woah, I can't believe I've never thought of that," I frown. "That would balance the flavors so well."

"Are you going to eat angel?" He moves to the sink and scrubs some dishes before storing them away in the dishwasher.

"Uh yeah," I scratch the back of my head nervously. "You don't have to do that babe. I'll take care of it."

"I don't mind," he smiles warmly. "Eat and then we can get dressed. There's something I want to show you while you're still using up your vacation days."

My stomach is churning. I feel sick, like I shouldn't take a bite of anything ever.

"Actually I don't feel so well."

His face drops, arms wrapping around me.

"What hurts babe?"

I'm nonchalant about it, not thinking much of it.

"It's probably a stomach bug or something."

"Do you have a headache?"

I nod my head and he sighs, taking my hand in his and kissing it.

"I'll make you some tea. We can just have a lazy day. Watch movies and play video games or something."

The whistle of the tea pot nearly makes my head explode. I feel dizzy, body swaying and he steadies me, leading me to the couch.

"Babe," his hand pushes sticky hair out of my face. "You're really warm. Do you want to go to the doctor? I'll take you."

I'm sweating profusely, body chilling. This is likely much more than a stomach bug but I'm not going to worry about it. It isn't like I've never been sick before.

"Thought I was always warm," I pout.

He chuckles, collecting me in his arms, murmuring in my ear. "Of course you are my angel."

His breath tickles my skin and I want nothing more than his comforting touch.

Zayn can heal me.

We end up on the couch, snuggled up under blankets.

I sip my ginger and honey tea as he flips between channels, fingers carding through my hair.

"Why don't you just get some rest?"

He kisses my forehead and gets up, the telly background noise. I'm not paying it any mind, body jolting as he stands up.

"Where are you doing?"

"I want to map out where to paint the constellations."

"Okay, I want to be where you are."

That makes him smile and he leads me into my room, easing me onto the bed and peppering my face with kisses.

He roots around in my desk drawer until he finds a sharpened pencil and a ruler. My eyes are fixed on him, studying the way his muscles flex as he stretches, sketching intricate patterns. I want my fingers to skim over his ribcage. I want to kiss his thin tan waist but I don't have the strength. I barely have the energy to keep my eyes open but I'm entranced, watching him connect the dots, whole constellations coming to life.

"The big dipper," I say in awe.

My heart is dipping too. The bed is dipping under his weight as he kisses me.

"Angel," he caresses my cheek and I'm practically melting into the mattress.

He's scruffy, stubble scraping my skin as his mouth works at my jawline. My fingers get lost in his hair, eyes closing as my body relaxes.

"Don't shave," I whisper.

He purposely scratches his dark hairs against me before freezing, and my eyelids open, our eyes meeting.

"Is it too rough?"

"No," I exhale. "You look ruggedly handsome."

There's a smirk on his face, eyes burning bright amber, flecks of gold swimming around his pupils.

"What else does it for you?"

His fingertip traces down my side. Feather light, just barely touching my skin.

"Do you like that angel?"

I suck in a shaky breath as he kisses my hipbone. His thumbs trace circles around my bellybutton, a warmth spreading through me.

"That feels nice," my cheeks flush.

"Your tummy hurts," he frowns. "I want to make it better."

I've stopped chilling but my head is still pounding. A dull ache growing into a full on throb. I wince and his face fills with worry, catching my discomfort.

"What's wrong my love?"

"My head," I whimper. "I feel like I'm going to throw up."

I make it to the bathroom, heaving my insides into the toilet. He rubs the small of my back, fingers brushing my hair back.

I'm groaning, aware of how disgusting this is but he doesn't seem to mind, just helps me to my feet and flushes the toilet.

"Brush your teeth babe, I'll get you some water. You needs lots of fluids."

Three times. I brush three times until my gums are bleeding and still have to swish around some Listerine.

He comes back and kisses my temple. I stare at our reflections in the mirror.

Pale porcelain colored skin and baby pink cheeks next to olive skin and a sharp jawline.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor?"

"If I'm not feeling better tomorrow I'll go."

"Okay," he pecks my cheek. "If you want to go back to sleep that's fine. I'll make you some soup later."

"Alright," I mumble, rubbing at my eyelids. "Sleep with me?"

"Of course angel."


	17. death nine

"Harry Styles."

His hand is clammy. He clutches mine tightly as we follow the bright blue eyed woman down the hallway.

He bobs his leg up and down as we wait and wait and wait. Not like I mind, I have plenty of time to kill.

Real funny Zayn.

"Relax babe," I chuckle, placing my hand on his knee. "It's like you've never been to the doctor."

My fingers card through his hair and he hums, eyes closing.

"They're going to prescribe you medicine," I whisper softly. "And then we can go home and I'll make you feel all better."

"Zayn," he mutters, head resting on my shoulder.

The door opens abruptly, a frail looking man with wiry gray hair and wide rimmed glasses smiles at us sweetly and pulls on some latex gloves.

"Hello lads," he chirps. "How are we? Not so great I assume," he laughs as he wheels his stool over to Harry. "Symptoms?"

"Mild headache and stomach pain."

He nods, slipping his stethoscope up under the hem of his shirt.

"Take some deep breaths for me."

They're shallow but he praises him and confirms that his heart is in fact beating.

Harry gives him a dimpled grin and I realize that I must be looking at him with so much fondness it's fucking sappy.

The doctor scribbles down a few things before moving his hand over Harry's belly gently.

"I'm going to apply a bit of pressure in some places, okay? Tell me if anything hurts."

I flinch at that. Something about seeing Harry wince is unsettling. His pain is my pain.

Shared pain.

"Can you keep anything down?"

"Not really," he answers meekly.

"You still have a bit of a fever. Good news is you just have a standard stomach bug. Bad news is that you're quite dehydrated which is why your stomach hurts so much."

"Oh," his face drops. "Zayn kept telling me to drink more water-"

"Came back up, huh? That's perfectly fine. It isn't severe so we don't need to hook you up to tubes or anything, just drink lots of fluids to compensate. However, I need you to do one of those dreaded urine samples."

He groans and my thumb strokes his cheek.

"All you have to do is pee," I laugh. "Doesn't sound too bad."

It's silent as I wait for them, the clock ticking on the wall.

My jaw rests in the palm of my hand and I sigh deeply, realizing how much joy Harry brings me. I feel lost without him, my mind wandering to dark places.

When I'm with him, I forget who I really am.

I just feel human.

I've been burned, cast to hell. The devil has seared my skin, shredded me to bits but he has never melted me like Harry.

Usually I don't feel it. I grit my teeth and block the the hurt.

I never knew real pain anyway.

Pain is seeing someone you care about at their worst; weak and tired and dejected.

Harry always melts me, warms me up instantly like I'm soft wax. It's a burning on the inside, a passion that ignites my bones. Every fiber of my being feels it.

My heart has never liked being cold. It has dusty corners, pumps slow because there's usually no reason for it to race.

He comes back in, small smile on his face and everything is shifting.

Now it's picking up speed, pulse strumming in my neck.

"I'm writing a quick prescription and then you two lovebirds can be on your way."

My angel's fingers lace in mine and I bite back a smile. When the doctor turns his back on us, Harry wetly kisses the crook of my neck.

My skin tingles where his lips were. I press my fingers there, touching the spot, that familiar warmth spreading through me.

I don't want to be cold again. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you.

We bicker over what to listen to on the radio on the drive back home. That's how I know he's feeling better. I make a quick stop to pick up his prescription and when I get back in the car there's a smirk on his face.

"You changed the station," I shake my head. "Unbelievable."

"Did not," he giggles.

"Mhmm. Then who did?"

He gazes out the window and I tip his chin, fingers curling under his jaw.

"You should look at me when I'm talking to you."

He turns to me, emerald eyes sparkling, lips baby pink, cheeks flushed.

"It was my imaginary friend."

I laugh into a kiss, pulling him over the console and into my lap. This is perfectly normal, right...making out in a parking lot?

He gasps as I bite his bottom lip, his finger pressing down on the mark I made. There's a droplet of blood on the pad of his finger, his lips swollen. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are a deep shade of green. 

I'm caught off guard as his hands fist up my shirt, his mouth working at my jaw.

"Harry," I moan.

Every move he makes sends vibrations straight to my cock. The radio is still playing but I can't quite make out the sound. Everything is static noise, my ears ringing as pleasure overtakes me.

The car shakes slightly, the windows fogging up and I fight him for dominance. His breath is hot, fanning across my neck.

I tug at his curls and the bag tips over, the pill bottle rolling across the floorboard.

My eyes close but then I shiver from the cold, the absence of his touch making my heart tremble. 

He laughs innocently and I'm climbing into the back of the car, following that irresistible sound, pinning his arms above his head.

"You think you're funny huh?"

"Actually I'm Harry."

Laughter spills from my lips just before they connect with his.

It's fierce and stolen kisses. Rough and rushed and greedy. Filled with so much lust my veins are swimming in it.

I'm fucking clouded in it. 

When we stop, there's the sound of our breaths and hushed words through the speakers.

My fingers stroke his scalp. I'm trying to catch my breath but he snatched it from me.

"Feeling better?"

He sits up slowly and I collect him in my arms, rubbing the small of his back.

"Not quite."

"No?"

His words are muffled against my neck and I swear my heart is two seconds from bursting. "I need you to kiss me again."


	18. Harry

"Zayn," I exhale.

Touch me, yeah  
I want you to touch me there  
Make me feel like I am breathing  
Feel like I am human

The lyrics are so sensual, his fingers skimming my skin.

"I found your note," he caresses my cheek, eyes wet. I feel helpless, heart shattering as he bites back tears. "A suicide note?"

"It wasn't a suicide note," I reply softly.

"Well it sure as hell felt like one," his tone pierces me.

I'm deflating, body draining of its color, turning stone cold.

Did I really want to die? Is that what it was? Is he right?

"You can always talk to me Harry, please don't be afraid," his voice cracks, hand trembling.

"I thought you weren't scared of death," I frown, brows furrowing in confusion. "Why are you reacting this way?"

"Stop," he pulls away, tugging at his hair. "This is different. Dying and taking your life are two completely different things. Besides, this isn't about me. I'm fucking terrified, okay? I don't want to lose you."

My heart stops and then I'm in a different dimension, mind wandering.

Drip. Drip.

The flame of the candle flickers, the water swishing around me.

My hair is damp, chills pricking my arms, the water growing colder. I hold my breath and slip under, creating a snall ripple.

It doesn't seem so bad. It's so simple; so painless.

My vision is blurred as I blink back tears. I can make out distorted edges. General things but not the details: raven black hair and caramel skin. Honey colored eyes peering down at me, a small shiver coursing down my spine as his thumb strokes my wrist.

"I can't lose you," he whispers.

They're spilling, little droplets everywhere. On my shirt, on the white sheets but he's gathering me in his arms.

I'm sobbing, fisting up the hem of his thin cotton knit shirt.

"Angel," he murmurs, cupping my neck.

The record player is still on but I'm blocking the noise, focusing on the tick of his heart. I'm inhaling his scent: amber, jasmine, black currant and nicotine.

"Don't leave me," he pleads. "I need you. You don't understand. I need you, I need you," he chokes on his words. They come out as a string of broken syllables and I can't quite understand why I mean so much to him.

I'm pulling him down and he chuckles, knees bracketing my waist.

"You're so beautiful," he sighs.

"Why do you never say the same about yourself?"

I crane to kiss him, arms wrapping around his neck. Zayn Malik isn't real.

"You aren't human," I whisper as our lips detach.

"What?"

His eyes grow wide, heart thudding away in his chest.

"You're too perfect."

I feel his body relax. My fingers card through his hair and he smiles, eyelids fluttering closed.

We're both startled as my phone rings on the nightstand and I rush to pick it up.

"Hello?"

My face falters, all my energy draining. There goes all the fight I had left. Just like that.

"No," I say exasperated. "It's not true. You're lying! You're fucking lying," I cry out, eyes burning again.

Zayn's eyes meet mine and a chill runs through me.

What was that?

"Babe," he says gently, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Are you okay?"

I'm angry, heart clenching up like an angry fist. This is so unfair.

Everything is so damn cruel.

"My mum-"

That's when I lose it, chucking my phone at the wall, body shaking with rage.

My face collides with a pillow and I scream and scream and scream until my throat is raw and I swear to God my lungs are going to give out.

I hate how much it hurts. I hate how deeply I fucking feel everything.

I'm fisting up the sheets until my knuckles turn white, hoping deep down that if I stay face pressed into the pillow I'll cut off my air supply and suffocate but Zayn is prying me from the pillow, saying look at me. Look at me Harry.

"I can't," I admit weakly, burying my hands in my face.

I feel so damn ugly.

"Make it stop Zayn."

"Please," he begs. "Don't do this. Tell me what is it, I won't-"

I'm pushing him hard, hands slamming into his chest and he gasps, body tumbling off the bed.

I've lost my mind. I'm hurting the one person...the only person that has ever given a shit.

"What the fu-"

"I'm done," I heave out breaths, voice quivering. "With this. With us. With everything. I've had enough."

"She died," he mutters to himself, eyes darting. "Oh my-"

He covers his mouth with his hand, muffling his cries.

I'm so afraid. 

Maybe he feels as equally broken as me, tears swimming in his eyes.

We share silent tears, his body slumped against the wall, my body sinking deeper into the mattress.

"I hate this. I hate it," I'm letting out ear shattering screams.

The record player haunts me, a soft melody echoing through the room, needle pressing to the vinyl. It just keeps spinning spinning spinning, parallel to my brain.

I curl up, hair sprawled across the pillow, knees pulled up close to my chest.

It doesn't matter than I hurt him because I feel his warmth pressed against me, breath on the nape of my neck, fingers lost in my messy curls.

"I hate seeing you suffer like this."

I think I love you. I'm too scared to say it. Would you say it back? I love you. You're all I have. Please love me too.

"What can I do to make it better? I'll give you everything I have Harry. I swear, I'll stop at nothing to make you smile again."

I'm too exhausted to respond, eyelids growing heavy.

"You deserve happiness. This hurts me so much. I know that's selfish but it fucking hurts."

"Nothing," I whisper hoarsely. "Nothing will make this better. You can't fix this. You can't just bring someone back from the dead," he snaps. "I'm asking for nothing."

Then again, this is something. I like the way it feels, his fingers massaging my scalp, his lips pressing to my neck.

It's comforting and it's all I need.

"Harry," he sighs.

Touch me, yeah  
I want you to touch me there  
Make me feel like I am breathing  
Feel like I am human

"Just don't stop touching me. Never stop."


	19. death ten

"You're my heaven," I murmur, messaging his scalp.

He snores softly, hair spilled across the pillow. His body is warm, skin soft and I can't stop myself from scattering kisses all over.

Feathery light, barely there, careful not to wake him.

This is what he meant when he said he'd hurt me; make me suffer. Nothing has made my heart sadder.

This was all part of the deal.

I'm crying until my eyes are raw and stinging because he deserves so much more.

Why'd I let myself get so close? He could be happy.

I had nothing to do with his mum. I'd never make him suffer like that. No, I wasn't responsible for her death. That one isn't on me.

Lucifer. Ruining the one good thing I have in my life.

With a sigh I get up and shuffle into the kitchen. I'm halfway through icing cinnamon rolls when he finally wakes up, hair tousled, sheepish look on his face. He tries to get some sleep out of the corner of his eye but fails miserably and gives a little yawn, shoulders slumping as he shrugs.

I watch, heart dropping in my chest as he plops down on one of the dining room chairs, resting his head on his folded arms.

"Babe," I whisper gently, fingers running through his hair.

"Don't you have class," he mumbles.

His eyes are bloodshot as he gazes up at me, dark circles beneath them.

"You're more important."

He remains silent but shakes his head before it hits the table with a thud.

"Harry," I squeeze his shoulders gently but he just groans. "I know it's hard but you have to be strong. We'll get through this together."

"I wanna go back to work. I need to get my mind off this. It's a good distraction."

I'm frowning, hand reaching for his but he pulls away, slamming the chair into the table.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to sleep," he grumbles.

"You can't sleep your life away."

He doesn't seem to care, just buries his face in the pillows and gets tangled in the sheets.

"I have something special planned today. Come on. You need to eat and take your medicine."

His body doesn't move. He remains still and I sigh, studying the steady rise and fall of his chest.

It's oddly comforting, just watching the pattern of his breathing. My hand rubs his back for what seems like eternity, until I hear muffled cries in the pillow.

"Shh," I whisper. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

He rolls over and I crawl under the covers beside him. My lips find his cheek, evaporating his tears.

"The cinnamon buns are getting cold."

His lips tug slightly at the corners and I wetly kiss his nose. He giggles and then I'm tickling his sides until he's begging me to stop, bright smile on his face.

"You're so damn adorable," I coo.

"Stop," he hides his face and I chuckle before kissing his neck and jaw.

"I've been waiting for that smile. Fucking angelic," I grin before finding his lips.

I'm knotting up his curls and he sighs into my mouth, warm air hitting the back of my throat.

"Where did you want to take me?"

My heart is thudding in my chest. I want to take him, right here and now but it isn't the right time and that definitely isn't what he was asking.

"It's a secret," I smirk. "Are you up for it?"

"I guess," he replies timidly. His stomach rumbles and I chuckle, getting up and pulling him to his feet.

"First we eat."

He smears icing all over my face but I don't mind. Embarrassingly enough, he doesn't notice that there's a dab of it above his upper lip until I lick it away.

We brush our teeth and he flashes his pearly whites at me. I shake my head, eyes rolling but secretly I think it's dazzling.

Green hills roll past us as we get further from town, leaving behind tall buildings and crowded streets, replacing them with vast baby blue skies and open fields.

"Life is so beautiful," he sighs, cheek pressed to the window as he gazes at the view. "Sometimes I forget that."

"Me too," I admit sadly.

I know that all too well. I'm sorry I capture souls and snatch last breaths. I'm sorry I take this from you. I hate myself. I hate who I've become. This isn't something I asked for. It's torture and I want you to know that but you Harry Styles have altered everything.

My perspective on life and death has completely shifted. Most people are innately good, they're full of compassion and wonder even when the world is against them.

You are one of those people and I swear to...I swear you're too pure for this world.

"I'm sorry," I say aloud.

"For what," he frowns.

"Everything." My knuckles tap against the steering wheel nervously. "Especially your mum. I never knew my parents. I don't know what's worse, never meeting the people who created you or becoming attached and having to let go. I'm always so afraid of that."

"You're actually scared of something," he jokes. "It isn't anyone's fault. Thank you," he glances over at me. "For being here with me through it all. I promise I won't leave you."

That isn't what I meant. I think deep down he knows. Reality is hard and cold and unforgiving. He knows letting go is inevitable. He just had to say goodbye to the woman who raised him.

Tell me why I let myself fall in love when I didn't even know I could.

My fingers find his, lacing as I bring his hand to my mouth to kiss his skin.

"We're here."

I get out to open the door for him and his eyes drink everything in.

Wildflowers, the sun caressing our skin. His eyes are glimmering.

"You brought me to the middle of nowhere but I'm strangely okay with that."

His head falls onto my shoulder, eyes scanning the horizon.

"Let's just soak it all in," I whisper. "It's so easy to get caught up in things that don't matter, chasing wealth and success and things that don't necessarily equate happiness. Holding onto moments like this, cherishing them...that's what makes life so precious."

I capture pictures of him on my phone.

Snap. Snap. Snap. The sound of a shutter.

He's laying in the grass, a wide array of flowers all around him.

My breath hitches and he's tugging my arm, pulling me down.

"Hi," his nose presses to mine.

"Hi angel."


	20. Harry

"We came all the way out here to frolic in the flowers?"

He smirks, golden eyes glimmering.

"Not exactly. I have something planned. Everything is in the trunk."

"Are you sure you aren't hiding a dead body in there?"

His face grows pale, skin ashen and I wonder if he thought I was serious, my blood running cold.

"I was joking babe."

I'm pulling him into my arms, ruffling his jet black hair.

"You okay?"

"Figured that's a sensitive topic for you right now," he says softly. "What are you going to do about the funeral arrangements?"

Suddenly, I feel so bitter. There's all this built up anger and anxiety inside of me. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, want to let all my frustration out.

My head is throbbing, vision blurred with tears.

"I can help you pay for it...she deserves a proper funeral. A visitation and everything."

"Really don't wanna talk about it," I mumble.

"Okay," he rubs up and down my arms, little chills raising from the friction. "I love you."

He kisses me so gently my knees nearly give out beneath me. Something about the tenderness makes me weak, I could weep at the softness of his mouth and the grace of his touch, fingers skimming my skin.

"You'll always have her in your heart. That's what truly matters."

"It still hurts," I choke on my words. "I need her warmth sometimes. I need that encouragement and I just want her to hold me. How would you feel if you could never touch someone again?"

He shakes his head, eyes tearing away from mine. I watch him swallow and my hand cups his cheek as if to say I'm still here.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I've made a million mistakes but somehow you make me feel like I'm more than that...more than the stupid things I've said and done."

"Well of course you are Zayn. We've practically told each other everything there is to know and I know you well enough to say you aren't a bad person. Doing a few shitty things doesn't make you any less human."

"Human," he echoes quietly. "Flawed and overly sensitive but compassionate."

"We try to be. Not all of us are so empathetic. Obviously there are evil people in the world. I try not to let it bother me too much. All I can do is share a little love."

He smiles, lips pressing smack dab to the center of my forehead. They linger there and it tingles a bit. My heart dances in my chest.

How'd he change my mood so quickly? How does he do that?

"There's a brook that meanders along here somewhere."

He takes my hand and we tramp trough the tall blades of grass until we stumble upon wet ground, ears blessed with the ripple of water.

It's a heavily wooded area, completely different from the field we abandoned. It seems like we're miles and miles away.

Glints of sunlight and slivers of blue are visible between the mossy green trees. There are gaps between branches and a bird is perched on one, wings flapping.

"This isn't even real," I say in awe. "What happened to the never ending rolling fields?"

I dip my feet in the cool water. There's a droplet of sweat on the nape of my neck from the stifling heat. It feels several degrees colder. There's a nice breeze and I want to stay here forever.

Everything seems so content.

"If I could die anywhere it would be right here. Of course nobody chooses how they die."

"Thought you didn't want to talk about death," he brushes it aside quickly, lips finding the crook of my neck.

It's a wet kiss, almost as wet as my submerged feet. I feel like I'm sinking but don't mind at all.

The sound of the babbling brook makes me smile, makes me close my eyes and inhale deeply.

His tongue laps up a bead of sweat and I have the urge to pull him in the water.

So I do.

He isn't too happy about his clothes getting drenched or being soaked to the bone but I laugh light-heartedly. It's deep where we are, nearly to my knees and I wonder where the water leads.

"I didn't bring any towels," he groans.

"The sun will dry us off. Relax Zayn."

I manage to peel off my dripping wet shirt and toss it onto the grass. Droplets of water drip from his hair. His eyes are the color of honey, lashes long and tangled.

The curvature of his lips is so perfect. His cheekbones are perfectly chiseled, brows thick and dark.

He looks like he's straight out of a painting or perhaps an editorial magazine.

Zayn is extraordinarily beautiful. He isn't someone you'd expect to see roaming the sidewalks on any given day or sipping coffee at a local dig.

You just assume he's too refined or that he's a pretentious asshat. He isn't though. That's the thing. He doesn't exude wealth, he doesn't flaunt his looks and he certainly doesn't make anyone feel any less beautiful than him.

In fact, he makes me more confident. He's always showering me with compliments and cherishing me like I'm some valuable gift. Like I'm fragile and rare and-

The way he looks at me brings a flush of pink to my cheeks. His finger trails down my chest and the water sloshes around us as he pulls me in, his lips colliding with mine.

It's all fireworks and stars bursting. That never changes.

"I love you too," I whisper as his assault on my mouth ceases. "I know that's a really delayed response but it felt important."

His finger traces around my lips and a smile spreads across his face, tongue pressed to his teeth

"Doesn't matter when you say it, as long as you feel it."

"Trust me I do."

My heart is racing, words tumbling out of mouth and it's too late to return them. I don't have a goddamn receipt.

"Do you ever want me?"

His hands are lost in my damp curls and I'm lost in him, desperately searching his face for an answer. Sometimes it feels like he doesn't want to take that step. Either he's afraid or just hesitant. Maybe he's worried about hurting me but it doesn't matter.

I want it, I fucking want him.

His lips tickle the shell of my ear, breath warm as he replies "more than you'll ever know."


	21. death eleven

We bask in the sun and he's spot on. The two of us seem to dry in a matter of seconds. It's getting colder though, a chilly breeze passing by and I pull him into my arms, chin resting on his shoulder, hands lost in his soft tufts of hair.

"Are you getting hungry?"

We both laugh as his stomach rumbles, the perfect answer to my question.

I get up and brush myself off, popping open the trunk. He nudges me gently and I give him my full attention.

"Yes babe?"

"What's with the blankets and the lantern?"

"Thought we'd make a day out of this," I shrug before pulling out the cooler. "I made chicken salad sandwiches and there are grapes and strawberries. Oh wait-"

I go around the car, searching the console until I find some antibacterial wipes. He wipes his hands clean as I lay out the quilts.

"All I brought to drink was bottled water."

"That's alright," he grins. "This is all so thoughtful."

His skin is glowing, cheeks tinted pink. I study the soft sweep of his lips as he talks, mesmerized by how beautiful he is.

"You know...I'm not afraid of death."

I frown, collecting him in my arms.

"It's just a natural thing. Besides, I've been so content lately. I feel so incredibly blessed and happy that if I died I wouldn't feel shorted."

I'm death. My heart tumbles in my chest. He has no idea but here I am, enveloping him.

I feel guilty. He's so young. Hasn't he been through enough lately? Why do I have to take his life so soon?

Warm tears are welling in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks.

"Zayn," he murmurs.

I let go of him, weeping softly until a warmth grows inside of me and he holds me, stroking my hairline, kissing away the tears on the tip of my cheekbones.

"It's okay. I'm very much alive. So are you. Sorry I upset you, I-"

"It isn't you," I say, voice strained. "I don't want to hurt you but I will. No matter how hard I try, I'll fucking hurt you."

"No babe," he massages my shoulders. "You'd never hurt me."

I hiccup painfully and sniffle, rubbing at my puffy and swollen eyes. He's made me so weak.

"Hey," he cups my cheeks, eyes searching mine. "I love you. You know that right?"

My heart is sinking and my head feels heavy but I nod weakly in response and he kisses my lips gingerly.

"Maybe some food would help," he chuckles. "Sometimes I get moody when I'm hungry."

I nibble on a sandwich but I don't have a large appetite. I feel sick to my stomach.

He places the back of his hand on my forehead, concern written all over his face.

"You feel really warm."

"For once," I try to joke.

That doesn't make him cheer up, instead he uncaps a bottled water and passes it to me.

"Thanks," I mutter.

"You feeling alright? If you start chilling we can move back to the car, I shouldn't have pushed you to go swimming. The water was really cold and-"

I cup his cheeks and kiss him with all the strength I have. His head tilts slightly, the kiss deepening. Our tongues are tentatively touching. A small noise gets caught in the back of his throat. I tug gently at his hair and he moans softly.

It's a beautiful sound and all I want to do is pleasure him more.

He's panting as I pull away, green eyes darkening with lust.

"My breath must be horrible," he blushes deeply. "Frickin' chicken salad."

I chuckle lightly before pushing him onto the blanket, straddling his waist.

"It isn't bad," my finger traces the outline of his lips. "I wouldn't mind anyway."

"It tasted delicious," he giggles. "If that counts for anything."

"Well thank you angel."

I brush a lose curl behind his ear, stupid smile on my face. I just can't help it. Harry does that to me.

"Maybe you should eat too...unless you're feeling sick," he frowns.

"No, I'm alright. M'not very hungry."

I sit back up, chewing at my bottom lip nervously. He hasn't punished me in awhile. Well, Harry getting sick felt horrible but I wonder what he has up his sleeve.

A deep shiver runs down my spine and Harry drapes a blanket over my shoulders, fingers brushing through my hair.

"Do you wanna talk? Is it school?"

I shake my head and the quietness envelopes us. No cars swooshing by. No honking, no shouts, no shrill sirens.

Nothing but the occasional chirp of a bird. It feels serene and I want to stay here forever, soaking up the sun.

"Zayn," he says softly. "Is it me?"

That's heart shattering.

"Why would you ever think that? I'm just mad at myself. Don't worry about it."

His arms wrap around me and I sigh, heart growing deathly still.

Deathly? Really Zayn?

"I do worry about you. I want you to be happy. You can tell me anything. I'm not going to leave you."

"You know you could do better, don't you?"

"That's not true! I'm clinically depressed and yet you give me something to fight for. My heart beats for you Zayn. It does," his voice cracks. "I'm so in love with you. I don't merely love you. I'm fucking in love with you. It's something I've never felt until now but it's beautiful."

I'm in awe. He always leaves me at a loss for words.

"Say something," he whispers.

"It's too soon. We haven't been together long enough for you to say that, I-"

He shakes his head, eyes wet and looks away, eyes fixed on the line where the grass meets the wide blue sky.

"I don't want you to fake it," he says quietly. "If you don't feel the same way just walk away."

His voice is so raw it hurts me.

"Fucking walk away."

A tear streaks down his cheek and I make up my mind that this is worse than any kill.

I've never hated myself more.

"I told you I'd hurt you."

"Just stop," he begs. "Why go through all of this trouble pretending? Can't you be honest with me? I'm being open Zayn. I'd never hide anything from you."

"It was wrong of me to say that, it wasn't true...I understand, okay? I know exactly how you feel and quite frankly, it scares me. I'm scared of how quickly I fell."

He sniffles and my heart softens, pad of my thumb collecting the droplet.

"You really mean that?"

"Of course my love."

"I don't like when you play with my feelings."

He wouldn't understand. There's no way he could ever comprehend what I go through.

"Angel," I exhale, fingers carding through his hair. "If I didn't love you why would we be here right now?"

"I don't know, this is so confusing. You said it was too soon-"

"I know what I said," I say gently. "My brain tried to tell me that it isn't the right time but my heart decided that it loved you a long time ago."

"I see," he giggles.

"I won't ever stop."

Not until his heart stops beating and he takes his very last breath.


	22. Harry

The warmth of the sun on my skin feels so nice. Zayn peels off my shirt and kisses down my back. I shiver as his tongue runs along my spine, heart quivering.

It curls up and laps wetly, collecting a bead of sweat at the nape of my neck.

"Zayn," I moan softly, fisting up the corner of the quilt.

"I don't mind that you made me swim," he flips me over, his finger gently tracing the outline of my lips. "Sometimes you have to take chances."

"Is that what we are," I ask softly.

"Maybe so," he smiles. "That isn't a bad thing. It's a risk I would take again."

"I fell so hard," my cheeks grow warm.

"Do you need me to soften the blow?"

I'm nodding timidly and he swoops down to capture my lips, hand cupping the nape of my neck, thumb etching tiny circles where my spine meets my hairline.

My tongue curls, tasting the soft warmth of his mouth. His mouth is sweet like honey. I let my hands get lost in his coal black tufts of hair and I'm practically melting. The grass beneath me is opening up and I'm falling even deeper.

It doesn't hurt. It never does. Zayn is careful and compassionate, always kissing me unhurriedly like he's savoring every moment. My heart is pumping faster, working harder to capture every moment with him. It feels like eternity.

He feels like heaven.

"Angel," he strokes my cheek as he pulls away, letting me catch my breath. "I love you."

My eyes flutter closed. I let the sun kiss me as Zayn caresses me, fingers trailing down my chest. My hard nipples soften as his mouth wrap around them. A pitiful whine falls from my lips as he tugs with his teeth.

"Oh fuck," I exhale shakily.

He stops, eyes meeting mine. Flecks of gold, a little black freckle dotting his left eye.

"You're unreal," I gasp, hand moving unsteadily, thumb swiping beneath his sharp jaw.

"I want you so bad...just not here. Not now."

He turns away and a cool gust of wind sweeps by, blowing his hair. His profile is straight off a canvas. The perfect curve of his nose, the dip of his upper lip. He's a work of art; a masterpiece. Sculpted by God himself and I swallow thickly before wrapping my arms around him.

He chuckles and rubs the small of my back.

"You okay" he asks, breath tickling my neck, warm air fanning across my skin. His lips graze my earlobe and I giggle, heart bursting at the seams.

"Better than okay. You've never felt so warm."

"I know," he mutters quietly. "My heart has never felt so mushy either. Thanks a lot for softening me," he adds jokingly.

"I don't want to die," I blurt.

His body grows slack, arms falling limply at his sides.

"What?"

He looks shocked, eyes widening and I feel angry at myself for making him so worried.

"I'm not sad anymore. I have everything I could ever want. I have good friends and a stable job and somewhere to rest my head at night. I'm so incredibly blessed. I can't complain you know-"

"Your mum must be so proud," he reassures. "Death is never easy. Trust me," he murmurs. "I know better than anyone. I've experienced a lot of it."

"I'm sorry," my face falters. "The best thing is...when I wake up I know I'll see your face."

"Oh Harry," he sighs, hands carding through my messy curls.

"Are you okay Zayn?"

"Yeah." He smiles meekly and I peck his cheek.

"Maybe you should eat something."

He shrugs and I scatter more kisses all over his face.

"Are you sleepy?"

I'm pulling him down and snuggling beside him, arms looping around his waist.

"Better?"

"Much," he laughs. "I guess a nap wouldn't hurt."

In a matter of minutes he's gone, snoring softly and I pack away the things in the cooler, putting them back in the trunk. He has more blankets and pillows in the back and a couple flashlights. I laugh as I spot a first aid kit but something catches my eye, glinting under the back seat.

A knife? It's obviously for self defense purposes. Come on, I scoff at myself. What was I thinking?

I still feel slightly unsettled and turn around quickly. He's still sound asleep.

It seems a bit unexpected. Then again, maybe he's smart for having a way to protect himself. He'd never want me to get hurt either.

There is something odd about Zayn though. I can't quite pin it but who flips through pages of a book on biblical prophecies and why is his school schedule so flexible? Is he even in school or did he lie about that?

How does he afford his flat? I'm positive he doesn't have a job.

I'm reading into this too deep, maybe I just-

"What are you doing?"

I jump as he startles me, heart thudding in my chest.

"You were asleep ten seconds ago, I swear."

"Harry," he frowns, crossing him arms. He groans and snatches the knife.

"Um, what are you doing," I ask panicked. My feet are planted firmly on the ground. I'm frozen in place; can't seem to budge.

"Putting this back is my sheath. Relax."

He fumbles around until he finds it and slides the knife in.

"Sorry," I look at the grass, biting my tongue. "I'm not scared of you. It's okay."

"Alright," he chuckles. "I don't know why you would be."

"I was trying to be helpful."

He kisses the corner of my mouth.

"Thank you babe. I couldn't stay asleep."

"Why," I frown.

"I couldn't feel you beside me anymore," his cheeks flush. "My biggest fear is losing you."

"I'll never abandon you Zayn. Just promise me the same."

"I'll always be with you," his voice trembles, eyes wet with tears. "Please know that Harry."

He cups his hand over his mouth, sobs racking his body.

"I love you," he says anguished. "With everything I have, I love you. To the ends of the earth, until the end of time, I love you."

"Was it something I said?"

I'm tucking him safely in my arms, heart breaking for him.

"No," he replies voice broken. "It's just always taken from me. It isn't fair."

"What babe? What's wrong? Tell me," I say gently.

"I lose everything I've ever loved."

"Not this time."

He steps away, tears streaking down his cheeks, body shaking.

"I'd never hurt you," his voice gets carried in the wind. "I'd never hurt you," he repeats rhythmically.

I'm scared for him, scared he'll pull out that knife.

Scared he's as fucked up in the mind as me and wants to take his own life so I quickly close the gap between us, gasping as cold blood drips down my fingers.


	23. death twelve

*mature

"Harry," my voice falters.

My heart fucking quivers as he slumps in my arms.

"I didn't mean to," I cry out and fist up my shirt, pressing it to his injured side.

"Z-zayn," his face grows pale, eyes wide as he realizes how much of his own blood is spewing.

"You shouldn't have fought me for it. Dammit Harry."

I scoop him into my arms and pop open the trunk, gently setting him down. I cut a piece of my shirt and tie it around him as I scramble to get the first-aid kit.

"I am so so so so so sorry," my voice shatters. "I love you. You know that right? I love you."

He hisses in pain, head hitting the backseat with a thud.

I continue to soak up the blood with the thin fabric of the shirt until it slows to a trickle.

"It isn't that deep," I let out a sigh of relief. "I had this all planned," my eyes water. "We were going to gaze at the stars. I was going to hold you and see them reflected in your eyes."

"Sounds romantic," he says lacking energy. He tries to smile but winces and I bandage him up slowly, carefully, lip poking out of the corner of my mouth as I concentrate.

"I ruined everything."

"You t-told me not to take my life but then you were going to-"

"It's different," I sigh, rubbing my temples. "You don't deserve to die. I'm not who you think I am."

"I know your heart Zayn."

I manage to carry him to the passenger's seat and get him strapped in.

The tires are tearing up the grass and I'm peeling out, barreling out onto the highway, foot pressing on the pedal like I have have something to prove.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you angel."

"Not your fault," he grimaces, eyes squeezing shut.

"That was stupid of me. I don't want to be apart from you. I just have all this guilt eating away and me and you wouldn't understand. I've done some terrible things."

"Everyone makes mistakes," he sputters. "I'm sure I'd forgive you."

The hospital is controlled chaos. I might be death but ironically, I hate hospitals. They're stark white. Too sterile, sheets pressed and starched, gowns billowing, far too large for any of the frail, sick patients. The gown swallows Harry up. He's so pale, he blends in with the bedding and I swallow thickly.

The stench of antibacterial and heavy cleaner stings my nostrils. I clutch his hand, fingers lacing in his.

I dip to kiss each of his knuckles and his eyelids flutter open. He smiles sheepishly and I bite back a grin.

"Harry," the nurse comes in, cheery as if she isn't constantly surrounded by ill people. "You're going to be just fine love, no stitches needed. That should heal up on its own. It's all cleaned up for you. Keep it that way to prevent infections and dress it up okay, dear? Your friend here did a fine job stopping the bleeding."

"Sounds like you're all fixed up," I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

It's great news and he's released just before dark.

I have to help him change into his clothes and he blushes, embarrassed that he can't function normally without pain shooting through his side.

"You're so strong," I whisper, sweeping him up into my arms. "This gives me an excuse to carry you everywhere."

"Zayyynn," he squeals, burying his face in the crook of my neck. The ride home is quiet, save the gentle hum of the radio.

I help him inside and he falls onto the bed, sprawling out, legs dangling off the end.

"Do you want me to bathe you?"

His cheeks redden so I gently undo his bandage and run some water for him, testing with my fingers so it won't scald him.

"Baby," I undress him slowly and collect him in my arms and lay him down in the water. It ripples gently around him, the ends of his curls dampening as they skim the water.

The water stings his cut but I slip into the tub with him, legs bracketing his waist.

"I'm here now love."

His bottom lip quivers, tears threatening to spill and I hate myself for making him hurt like this.

"I'll never forgive myself."

He tilts his head back and I pour some water over his head. His eyes close and I'm careful not to get soap in them, fingers scrubbing at his scalp.

"You should," he whispers.

I freeze and his eyes open, a deep emerald that makes the rest of the world fade around me. My body is dissolving.

"Tell me," he begs. "What is it you're so afraid of? What are you hiding from me? I've told you everything. I'll give you everything. I will let your body join with mine, I'll sing out for you. My body will hum, I'll come for you. I'd do anything for you. I'd fucking die for you," he tugs at his curls, hands fisted, fingers lost in his tiny knots.

"Don't say that," my voice cracks.

"Why? I don't understand! Why won't you let me love you? You're worth it. You deserve it. Please," he pleads. "Don't let what happened in your past come between us. How do you feel about me?Be honest."

I leave an open-mouthed kiss on his wet shoulder. Droplets of water fall onto my skin. He's soft and warm, skin smooth and pale as porcelain. Cheek like cream so I caress it, back of my hand tingling at the touch.

"I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life. I love every dip, every freckle, every flaw...every scar."

My hand moves, finger tracing around his wound.

"I didn't think I could ever feel this way. I want to protect you from harm-" I choke on my words.

"You do Zayn. I feel so safe."

"I want to touch you where you've never been touched."

He moves closer, the water sloshing around us.

"You have. Shh," he murmurs. "Listen."

I hear the tick of my own heart but I place my hand over his chest, feeling the gentle lull of his. So steady. So comforting.

"Always for you Zayn."

My hand slips beneath the water and wraps around his length. He gasps, his cock straining, hardening as I thumb over his sensitive tip.

I pump slowly until his legs quiver and I abandon his member to leave a lingering trail of kisses at his inner thighs. His body shakes gently, the water lapping.

"Angel," I whisper, mouth latching to his neck, sucking little bruises.

Just claiming what's mine.

"Help me," he whines pitifully, hand dipping into the water.

"I want to watch you. You're so beautiful."

My mouth works at his jaw and he moans, hand moving furiously. I can feel the wave build up slowly. A deep shiver runs through me as his jaw goes slack, deep moan eliciting from the back of his throat. The sensation is building, water tipping over the edge of the tub as his body quakes with pleasure.

He needed this. That warm familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Then he's erupting and he must be one of the seven wonders of the world world, milky substance shooting into the water, breaths labored as his chest rises and falls. There's a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, his curls sticking to his hairline. His cheeks are flushed, lips swollen as his teeth sink in.

"That was-" his head falls onto my shoulder, heart thudding as he presses against me.

He doesn't finish his thought and that's okay. Somehow he said everything I needed to hear.

"It alleviated the pain a bit."

"Good," my fingers tousle his hair. "Be still, be calm."

He's obedient and I rinse out the shampoo. I press the washcloth to his skin, jasmine and honey body wash, attempting to wipe away all the hurt.

When we're done I pull the plug, watching the sudsy water swirl down the drain.

My arms wrap around him and he leans against me like he needs me for support.

"Sit on the edge of the bed and wait for me."


	24. Harry

"Everything heals in time," I assure him.

He applies the antibiotic liberally, fingers just barely grazing my wound. He's careful not to press too hard and kisses my cheek, lashes grazing my skin as he does.

"I wouldn't change anything. I'd do it all again."

"Except the part where I accidentally stab you?"

I chuckle, nuzzling beside him. "Except that."

He grins, stroking my hairline. "You're so perfect."

"Am not," I blush deeply, skin flushing. I'm incredibly warm and so is he, I note quite happily.

Zayn is rarely this warm. Always cold, frail body shivering. He's slender fingers and lanky legs. But there's something soft and inviting about him. Maybe it's his bright smile or caramel colored eyes. It could be the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs or the way his baby pink tongue presses to his dazzling teeth.

"Are you hungry," I nudge him.

"Yeah," he sighs and sits up, switching on the bedside lamp. He yawns as he stretches.

He looks worn down and exhausted, dark circles hanging heavily beneath his eyes.

"You okay Zayn?"

All I get in response is a small nod. He rubs at his temple, groaning before leaning back, head hitting the pillow.

"I'll just order some pizza."

I crawl over to his side of the bed and scatter kisses all over his face. My side aches but so does my heart. I'm yearning for him and I feel so much hurt. Not because a knife plunged into my side.

My heart is bleeding out more than my cut did. I'm weeping on the inside because Zayn has a somber look on his face. He's dejected, burying his face in the pillow as I roll over to grab my phone.

"What kind babe?"

"Doesn't matter. Whatever you want."

I feel like the walls are closing in around us. I'm about to place the order but just can't, hand trembling. I hang up and he flips over, looking at me expectantly.

"Maybe you think you're misunderstood. Maybe you've done some things you can't forgive yourself for but I can and I will. I love you unconditionally. You'd never hurt me on purpose. I know that. You know that Zayn. My life has been full of light and laughter since you entered it. I'm not going to abandon you."

My thumb runs along his bottom lip. He nips at it and I shriek. Somehow I find myself beneath him, heart pounding. He kisses around my bandage where my skin throbs.

"My angel," he murmurs.

"I understand you," I whisper back, heart still erratic. "I know your heart."

"You take up most of it," he smiles fondly before kissing me passionately; desperately.

It's hungry and heavy. The room grows hot quickly. It's stifling and my heart nearly leaps from my chest as he pins me to the mattress, tongue flicking over the bites he littered on my neck.

"Zayn, Zayn, Zayn," I repeat breathlessly.

He's swimming in lust, his eyes are clouded in it. I understand that feeling too. I'm drowning, sinking deeper and deeper until all I can do is let go.

It's a fury of emotion, like being caught in the midst of a hurricane and I'm trying to remember how to breathe.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he pulls away. "I got caught in the moment."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

He moves to the foot of the bed and I order a large cheese pizza, studying his expression. Why is he always so down? How can I fix him?

When I hang up he's gazing up at the ceiling, looking at his map of the constellations.

"I'll paint that soon."

"No need to rush. Just relax. Take things slow."

I rummage around in my dresser and tug on an oversized hoodie and some joggers.

"You believe in God right?" He breaks the silence.

"I do, I'm just not sure why such terrible things happen to innocent people. I suppose he has a bigger plan. Most things are out of my hands. I take care of what I can and leave the rest to him. It's okay if you aren't religious. It doesn't make a difference to me."

"Well I believe is something. It's just hard to wrap my head around it all-"

"I know what you mean." I sit beside him, taking his hand in mine. "What can I do to cheer you up?"

"I'm alright Harry, honestly. You make me so happy."

"Good," I grin sheepishly and peck his cheek.

I'm slow to get up but trod into the kitchen and pour two glasses of water.

Zayn's arms wrap around me but we're interrupted by a knock at the door. I give the pizza kid a wad of crumpled cash and his eyes widen as he pockets the change.

"Thank you mate! Thank you."

"That was sweet babe."

The sink runs as he washes his hands. He gulps down his water and I deliver the pizza box.

Much to my surprise he devours a slice and is reaching for a second before I've even finished my first. I chuckle, dabbing some pizza sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"Just a tad hungry, huh?"

"This tastes so good right now." He moans, eyes closing as he chews.

"Can we maybe try star gazing again sometime?"

He sets down his slice, eyes meeting mine.

"I'd like to. It was a total disaster this time."

"Well nobody died. Are our heads clear now? Have we sorted everything out?"

"I have you to live for. You have me right?"

We end up huddled under blankets, binge watching Game of Thrones.

"Really, I don't get the hype around this show."

He shrugs before draping his arm around me protectively.

"I just like being close to you, it doesn't matter what we're doing. Will you be okay by yourself tomorrow? I have class."

"Of course. I have to go back to work anyway," I grunt. "I'll call you if I need anything but I'm sure I'll be fine."

He traces patterns into my back and I sigh deeply, eyelids fluttering closed.

"I'll miss you," he whispers in my ear, breath tickling my skin.

"We can't even be apart one day," I laugh lightly. "We're so pathetic."

"We're in love. There's nothing pathetic about that."


	25. death thirteen

"You should have finished him off," he hisses. "It was a golden opportunity."

"I fucking love him," I spit back. "You're sick. So sick and twisted. I hate this. I don't want this. I never asked for this."

His hand wraps around my neck and I'm choking on my own spit, struggling for air. I won't let him win. He doesn't control me.

If anyone controls me it's Harry. He releases his vice-like grip and I look at him, anger boiling inside of me, hot blood pumping through my veins.

"That's it," he laughs wickedly. "Harness your hatred."

"No," my voice cracks. "You're trying to manipulate me. It won't work. I'll never hurt him."

"I'm afraid you don't have the choice. Time is running short. Letting go gets harder with every passing second. You're infatuated. It's so pathetic," he laughs coldly. "Do you think he needs you?"

"Stop," I cry out, voice pained.

"He doesn't love you anyway. He'd move on in a heartbeat. Do you really think he's over-"

"They're just friends. You're getting in my fucking head," I scream. "Get out! Get out!"

"You used to be so strong. He makes you weak. Kill him. Kill him and never fall in love again. Is that understood? This was never meant to happen."

"I won't do it," I snarl. "I won't hurt him."

"We made a deal," he growls and then searing heat is swallowing me. My throat closes up, flames licking and roaring around me.

He snaps his fingers and suddenly I'm back in my flat, bloody terrified.

"Oh my God!"

The smoke alarm is beeping and I'm petrified. His power doesn't extend to the mortal world. How is this possible? Smoke is billowing through the living room, I cough and cough until it my throat feels punctured, airwaves constricted. I'm dropping to my knees and crawling into the kitchen to get the fire extinguisher from under the sink. I spray and spray until the fire is tamed.

That was horrifying. My body shudders and I lean against a wall for support, breathing still labored.

I fumble for my phone and shakily dial Harry. Luckily he picks up on the second ring.

"Zayn?"

"Harry," my voice trembles. "A fire started in the living room. It must have been a candle or something. I don't know, I don't know how it happened. I'm so confused. What should I do?"

"You're okay. That's all that matters. How bad is the damage?"

"Everything seems okay but I'm going to open a window. The smoke is really thick. There's a whole cloud of it."

"Babe you shouldn't stay inside. That's really bad for your lungs."

"I'm grabbing my backpack and a few other things. Can I go to your place?"

"Yeah, of course. Do you want to just... permanently move in? We can look at the stars every night. I mean I'm not pressuring you to finish the ceiling art-"

"Really? Harry," my heart slows in my chest. "Are you sure you're okay with that? It's a big step."

"I'm madly in love with you. I want to share my life with you. Sharing a place is just a small part of the deal."

I laugh and hastily grab some things, packing them in my bag.

"How is work? Do you want me to grab you lunch today?"

"No that's okay. I think I'll go with a co-worker. Don't you have more important things to worry about, like how there was a fire in your flat?"

"It isn't a hazard anymore and...should I be jealous?"

He giggles and my heart melts like warm wax.

"Mayyybe. You seem like the sexy when jealous type though."

"I'm sexy anyway, yeah?"

"Sure," he chuckles. "My bad. Hey, I have to go," he says hurriedly. I can feel the smile in his voice as he quickly exhales "I love you."

"I love you too," I whisper. The line goes dead and my heart thuds in my chest.

He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me. Somebody loves me.

His house feels like home. The scent of warm vanilla and brown sugar.

I especially like his bedroom with its large bay window, fairylights strung up. There's a giant fuzz rug at the foot of his bed and a pile of plush pillows on top, bed perfectly made.

It's a light drizzle outside and it's oddly peaceful. My heart feels content. I begin unpacking my stuff and nosily sort through his dresser drawers. There's nothing that interesting in his room besides a folded piece of paper on the nightstand.

Despite my brain warning me against it, I read it.

Reasons to live:  
1\. The world is beautiful  
2\. You're still young  
3\. Zayn (move to number 1)

My heart sinks as I realize the implications of that.

I quickly shake the bitter thought away and finish painting his ceiling, stupid grin on my face. He's going to be so happy, beautiful smile on his face when he sees it.

The smell of smoke doesn't fade so I hop in the shower, scrubbing diligently at my scalp with his shampoo. I love Harry's scent. It's soft and sweet but has a crisp edge. I can't really describe it but it's distinctly him.

I love the texture of his skin, smooth like velvet, pale, the color of porcelain. And of course his rose tinted cheeks when he blushes and his full baby pink lips. When he smiles I feel the rest of the world dissolve around me. I want to kiss him until I'm short of breath, carefully tucking his curls behind his ear.

Most importantly, I'm in love with who he is. Harry is the purest, most passionate person I have ever had the blessing of knowing. He's encouraging words and small acts of kindness. He's bright pink and vivid orange sunsets and sunshine peeping through a line of clouds. He's pleasant dreams and nights spent snuggled up beneath warm covers. He's bright giggles and messy kisses but you don't mind that too much because somehow he finds a way to stop the world, he makes your breath hitch and your heart flutter.

I want my fingers lost in his curls and the wetness of his mouth.

Simply put I just want him. It's a dull ache that never goes away but I believe in miracles.

and fuck I believe in heaven

because he's it


	26. Harry

*mature

He's sound asleep when I get home. I sigh happily, fingers carding through his damp hair. His smooth tan cheek creases the pillowcase, soft snores slipping between his lips.

My heart warms at the sight of him. He must be so exhausted, poor baby.

When my gaze flicks upward a shiver runs down my spine, time stopping.

"You finished," I whisper my thoughts aloud. "That means so much to me," a warm tear streaks down my cheek. "I love you," I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. "Thank you."

Much to my surprise he stirs, eyelids fluttering open, sheepish smile on his face.

"Hi beautiful."

"Zayn," I exhale, cupping his face in my hands. His eyes are a soft caramel, long lashes batting as he blinks. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Your heart is so beautiful, you're so damn romantic. How do you do that?"

He bites back a smile and ruffles my curls. "I dunno. I just love you. It feels natural."

"I'm going to take a shower."

"Oh," he frowns deeply. "I wish we could have showered together."

"Maybe next time," I grin.

It's super quick because I'm anxious to crawl into bed beside him. He seems ecstatic, wide smile on his face as he pulls me into his arms.

"You smell so good," he moans softly, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. I giggle as it tickles and he nibbles at my earlobe.

"Stop," I squeal, in a fit of laughter. "Zayn!"

When he does I'm flustered, cheeks ruddy.

"You feel especially warm," I move a stray hair out of his face and lean in to kiss him, kiss deepening as his hand slips around my neck. My mouth parts for him and our tongues duel.

There are licking flames all around me, a fiery passion burning within me and his lips are fueling it, the warmth of his skin driving me crazy. He tastes sweet, mouth wet, tongue rough.

I feel my pulse quicken, boiling blood pumping in my veins. He stops and I try to catch my breath, panting out softly. His eyes are glowing amber, tongue trailing seductively over his bottom lip before his teeth are sinking in and he's pushing me onto the mattress, legs straddling my waist.

He just touches me tenderly, hands roaming over my chest, pointer finger trailing down to my bellybutton. Feather-like as if I'm fragile and he's afraid he'll shatter me.

"Are you afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Hurting me," I whisper, heart wrenching up like an angry fist. "You shouldn't be."

"Your heart is such a delicate thing. I should have never touched it."

"No," I fight back tears, voice wavering. "Never be scared. Please," I beg desperately. "I trust you."

He's sweeping down to kiss me again and we become entwined, my hair tousled, breathing shallow, heart racing, pulse in my neck and then it slows down to almost nothing.

Complete stillness and silence, nothing but the ticks of our hearts and I'm fucking melting, mattress molding to my body.

It's a feeling I can't describe.

"You've never felt so warm," I say quietly.

His hand trembles, back of it stroking my cheek and a tear falls onto my skin.

"It's okay to cry."

"Never forget the moments like this," his voice hitches and my heart snaps. "Whatever happens, never forget the love that we shared, the kisses we swaped...don't forget about me," he hiccups painfully.

"It doesn't matter babe," I sit up. "We're here now. Nothing is going to change. I'm right here. Let's not ruin the moment Zayn, I-"

His eyes search mine as I search for the right words.

"Want you," I finish.

"That's all I ever needed to hear. Can I-" his eyes are soft and kind, tone hushed. "Can I make love to you?"

I'm fucking triggered, blinking back tears because I'm goddamn sensitive.

"Just relax. I want to make you feel good."

He kisses me passionately but unrushed, lips finding my jaw, eliciting a moan from me before moving to my collarbone. He stops to scatter a trail of lovebites on my neck, teeth pulling at my skin gently.

"Z-zayn," I stammer and his lips suction around the marks, sucking until my body quivers.

The moist tip of his tongue laps over my assaulted flesh and I rut helplessly against the sheets.

He tugs at my curls, teeth grazing my hardened nipples. They're sore until they soften inside of his mouth, his cheeks hollowing out.

He's so gorgeous, lashes grazing his cheeks, tongue skimming over my buds before he wanders to my v-line, pads of his thumbs tracing circles into my hips. The tips of his fingers skim above my underwear line but it's a playful tease and he moves gracefully to kiss my inner thighs. I feel a heat spread through my stomach, cheeks flushing, a thin sheen of sweat at my hairline and my legs begin to tremble.

I'm growing harder with each passing second and he strokes me through the thin material of my briefs.

By the time he pulls them off, my member is springing out, leaking against his bare skin.

He thumbs over the head and my thighs quake, back arching up off the mattress.

"Your body is beyond perfection," he murmurs. "You are so beautiful. I am so lost in you. My angel."

I moan shamelessly and he pumps slowly before taking me into his mouth. I'm close to releasing in his mouth as he flutters around me, my tip reaching the back of his throat but he eases off with an obscene pop. His lips are swollen, eyelids sweaty but he looks picturesque.

He presses his finger to my puckered hole.

"Need to slick you up but I don't have any-"

"No," I rasp out. "I don't care, I don't care. Please," I whimper.

He slips them into my mouth, letting me do the work for him.

My fingers dig into his back and he scissors me, adding more digits to stretch me properly. It hurts so bad, I bite my tongue.

He lines himself up and thrusts into me and I cry out in pain.

"Angel I can't," he panics, eyes wide. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Just move," I plead through gritted teeth.

So he does, hips swiveling, angle shifting until all I can feel is waves of immense pleasure. He delves deeper, pace quickening and I scream out as he hits my spot, a surge shooting through my entire body, bed frame rocking.

Harder, faster, deeper until I'm seeing stars, mind going blank.

His hips snap as he pounds into me. I whimper at the power; the sheer rawness. My body tenses up and then I clench around him, releasing, a strand of moans falling from my lips.

He slows down considerably before finally reaching his peak, orgasm overwhelming him like a strong tidal wave. He inches out lazily.

My body is weak, mind blissed out.

The storm surge has passed. Not much is left in its wake but heavy breathing and tangled limbs.

I'm in his arms and that's all that ever matters.

He breaks the heavy silence, fingers brushing through my tangled curls.

"My heaven."


	27. death fourteen

He cries out in his sleep, grasping for something seemingly unattainable and he clutches onto my hand, fingers clammy, beads of sweat trickling down his pale forehead. His thick curls are plastered to his face, eyelids covered in a thin layer of perspiration.

"Babe," I shake him gently.

He whimpers pitifully and I feel my heart shatter as it slams against my ribcage.

"Angel," my fingers card through his hair. I kiss the corner of his mouth and his eyelids flutter open.

His eyes are wide, cheeks flushed. I caress his cheek and he shivers.

"Your fingertips are cold."

Green eyes wet with tears, I tuck him into my arms and gently rub his back.

"It's okay angel. I'm right here. What's wrong?"

"You went through with it," he chokes. "Twisted the knife, blood sputtering everywhere and you were s-so cold. Please don't leave me," he sniffles. "I don't want to lose you too Zayn. I can't."

I'm stone cold as is, swallowing thickly because death will take him away from me soon and-

I'll take his life away.

My teeth bite into my tongue as I blink back tears.

He doesn't deserve this, he's having nightmares about losing me when I'm the fucking nightmare.

My hand trembles as I touch his face. Black and poisonous but he's so innocent; so unsuspecting I wish I could swap places with him.

I'd do anything to steal that hurt, to make the pain disappear.

"Zayn," he says softly. "Believe me when I say this. Please," his voice strains. "You are worth it. You deserve just as much happiness as me, if not more. Your heart is big and full of love and compassion."

I'm a cold-blooded killer. What would you think if you knew that? Would you run away? Would you try to escape me?

I wish you could. Get as far away from me as possible, start sprinting and don't stop.

Never look back.

Instead, I want him closer. We're touching in every way possible, our hearts in sync and I kiss him softly, parting his lips with my tongue. He sighs into my mouth and shivers.

My finger trails down his spine and his hands get lost in my hair. The white bed sheets look like a cloud and I swear I'm floating.

This is heaven.

"Zayn," he whispers, breath warm against my skin. "It's today. Will you be there?"

"Of course babe," I stroke his cheek.

"It's gloomy and rainy, seems pretty fitting," he sighs sadly. "She was so young. My mum was the most wonderful woman," he smiles in a heartbreaking way.

He looks so fragile, dark curls spilled across the pillow, tears staining his pale cheeks.

"I wish I would have been more thankful for everything she did for me...I didn't know it would be so unexpected-" his voice snags. "I didn't know."

He's a mess of tears, body trembling as he sobs and I feel helpless.

There's nothing I can do. All I do is cause more pain. I ruin everything. I leave destruction in my wake.

How can I provide him comfort?

"I need you," he hiccups painfully. "God, I need you." He tugs at his hair, looking at me with sheer desperation in his eyes.

•••

I watch him knot his tie, solemn look on his face. It isn't right, seeing Harry dressed in all black.

"Everything will be okay," I assure him, slipping my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I'll be here for you. Always."

That's the truth, I'll never forget Harry. Ever.

He's the kindest, most gentle soul I've ever met, not to mention astoundingly beautiful.

I love everything about him. I never knew I was capable of love yet we somehow found each other.

We need each other. He makes me realize that I'm not a complete monster, there's a soft side of me and I haven't fully succumbed to Lucifer and his wicked ways. Inside of me there's compassion and sadness...anger too. Not necessarily rage but bitterness over the cruelness of the world.

Sometimes I like what I do. I bring people peace and others deserve it.

When it comes to Harry I try to push the thought aside, tell myself he's my forever. The love we have is everlasting, we can-

We can't.

My heart falters. He feels so warm and so soft and smells of sweet jasmine and honey.

"I love you," I murmur into his ear.

He goes up to the mic, head up strong, shoulders back but loses it in a moment's time.

His body trembles, voice quivering as he says "my mother knew me better than anyone, for so long she was all I had; my only support system. She was strong, resilient and had a heart of gold. I know she made an impact on so many of you-"

He muffles his sobs with the crook of his arm. It's quiet, a mist of rain falling on everyone. Liam shuffles his feet, big brown eyes full of tears. Niall is staring at the ground, hands folded in front of him and Louis looks lost to say the least.

Harry looks at me, eyes bloodshot, heavy dark circles under his eyes. My heart keeps telling me to do something but in an instant Louis is there, hand on his shoulder, guiding him and I turn away, everything inside me shattering.

I can't watch them lower the casket or shovel the dirt around it. I can't watch someone else console my Harry.

It's all too much.

"Zayn."

His fingers skim the back of my neck, making my hair rise up.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I wanted to hold you-"

I sound so pathetic, breath hitching in an attempt to fight back tears.

"You don't understand babe."

I turn to face him and his hand is there, warm on my wet cheek.

"Louis cares and I care about him too but I could never love him like I love you. With everything I have Zayn...with my whole heart. With my life," his voice breaks.

"Sorry I wasn't there for you-"

"Stop," he begs, eyes swimming with tears. "Can't you see Zayn? You have been here for me. When nobody else was...you call me an angel. Have you ever seen it the other way around because I swear that's what you are."

It's happening, my arms enveloping him, keeping him safe. My shoulder is soaked from the rain but his head rests there anyway.

I rub the small of his back and he lets go, all the energy draining from his body. He feels limp in my arms, completely deflating and I will myself to be stronger.

For him. Always for him..

"I promise I'll be everything he couldn't be."


	28. Harry

"I had a whole speech prepared."

His wet hair is coal black, water flicking as his tan fingers run through it.

"Everyone understands how you must have felt babe, don't worry about it. It's a sensitive thing, death is never easy. She knows how much you love her. That's what truly matters."

He undresses me slowly, mouth working at my bare shoulder. He kisses a trail down my spine and a deep shiver runs through me.

"Your skin tastes so sweet," he moans, tongue lapping at the nape of my neck.

His hands grip at my waist, breath warm against the shell of my ear.

"Can I help you wash the hurt away?"

"Y-yes," I exhale shakily.

The water cascades down my back, there's a cloud of steam in the shower, warm water pelting down in a steady jet stream.

He presses me against the cool tile, scattering kisses all over my face. I giggle as he nibbles at my earlobe.

I feel so blessed to have Zayn in my life. I'm sighing into his mouth, nails scratching down his back. He's hoisting me up and I gasp, legs wrapping around his waist.

We kiss and kiss, me releasing my bottled up anger over innocent people being taken away too soon, attempting to overcome the sadness flooding my heart, trying to shake away all the doubt in the corners of my mind.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he repeats it until my heart beats the rhythm of his words; until it fully sinks into my skin and I'm dizzy from it.

He sets me back down, fingers gently scrubbing at my curls. I purr contently before tipping my head back, eyes closing as he rinses out the suds. He works my body wash into a luxurious lather, wet rag roaming over my body.

Slipping between my thighs, making me whimper.

When we're both clean he wraps me up in a fluffy towel and pats me dry. Water drips from the ends of my curls so I squeeze it out.

I watch droplets run down his toned chest and pull him close, hands looping around his arms.

It's never enough.

I'm letting myself get caught up, I'm completely lost in him, somehow finding my body pressed beneath his on the bed. The towel is gone of course and so is my sanity.

"Zayn," I whisper.

Then it's a frenzy, my heart pounding in my chest, mind in a stupor. His lips are everywhere.

A sudden wave passes over me and I'm sobbing again, letting him pull me down into his arms.

"Shh it's okay. Everything is okay angel. We're okay. I know it's hard, I know."

"I'm sorry," I sniffle an apologize.

"Baby no," he frowns, caressing my cheek.

Our foreheads press together. His amber eyes are glowing softly, I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, hear the lull of his ticking heart.

"I told you I was better but I'm not," my voice breaks. "I'm not okay Zayn. It fucking hurts. Everything hurts."

My eyes sting, the taste of salty tears on the tip of my tongue.

"I miss her. I miss the way things used to be. I got a promotion in a profession I don't even like, I pushed away my friends and-"

"Angel," he murmurs. "You can tell me this anytime, okay? Don't keep these things to yourself, it isn't good for you."

I'm clinging to him, just barely hanging on by a thread. I feel like stitches coming undone; unraveling at the seams.

"You're it," I whisper.

"What babe?"

"The one thing I still live for."

Silence fills the spaces between us and it's suffocating.

"I guess I'll have to give you more reasons."

I'm falling in love with him all over again, weeping softly as he ruffles my damp hair and kisses my warm cheek.

He kisses carefully around my wound and my eyelids flutter closed.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

His body tenses for a moment but then eases up.

"Me too," he says deathly quiet.

"You okay Zayn?"

He smiles into a kiss and laces our fingers together as he pulls away.

"The stars look especially beautiful tonight," he jokes.

It makes my heart trill and I laugh happily, eyes fixated on the glowing painted stars above us.

"I don't want to go to work tomorrow," I groan. "I know I shouldn't be complaining. There are people with nothing but-"

"Let me take you out for lunch."

I'm bite back a grin. He's the best. I am so damn lucky.

"Okay."

"No co-workers," he warns, eyes glimmering.

Brighter than the stars.

"Are you jealous? I mean Brian in payroll is really hot."

"I hate you," he chuckles, knuckles grazing my jaw.

"Sure," I tease. "You'd do anything for me. I know you would."

"Good boy," he praises. "You're going to have sweet dreams tonight, right?"

"I'll try."

"That's all you can do babe but you should dream of me."

My laughter is muffled against his chest.

"If it's of you, it's likely a wet dream."

"Mhmm," he hums, fingers carding through my hair. "What do you like baby?"

My cheeks flush and I bite my tongue.

"It's okay," he encourages softly. "You can tell me angel."

"Rimming."

"Oh," he replies hushed. "You and Louis tried that?"

"Yeah," I reply hesitantly. "It always made me feel good but-" my cheeks grow incredibly warm. "It would be much more special if it was you."

"Wow," he exhales. "Yeah okay."

His fingers are still brushing through my curls, detangling little knots.

"I'll plan something special for you. You deserve it."

"I want to make you feel good too Zayn," I frown.

"No worries angel. You always do. Go to sleep, you've been through enough lately. I promise I'll still be here when you wake up."

My heart feels so content; full despite everything I've endured.

"Now matter how many times I say it, it's never enough. I love you Harry. I'd give up everything for you...I'd go through hell for you," his voice cracks. "I'll always love you. There is no one else."

A warmth spreads through me, his hand rubs soothingly at the small of my back and in a matter of minutes I'm a snoring softly.


	29. death fifteen

I'm catastrophically in love with him. A desperate sort of love like Icarus loving the sun; too much and too close.

I hope he never lets the world's bitterness steal away his sweetness.

We seem to forget that even the moon has a dark side. So dark not even the stars can illuminate it.

Harry is like that too but he shouldn't be afraid to share that side with me.

I wonder if there are fallen angels and if so are they smiling or are they inhaling the poison of cheap cigarettes? Sometimes people want to be poisoned.

My eyes flick over to him. He's surely a form of art, a masterpiece. Heartbreaking, breathtaking...divine.

Everything feels so hazy and a bit floaty, like I'm losing touch with reality.

I've transcended to heaven once again.

He could paint jewels with his crystal tears, make a butterfly flap its wings, heart fluttering around like it's trapped in his ribcage.

After all it's just yearning to take flight.

I want him to make beautiful music. A symphony of shallow breaths and soft moans, make pearls with the wetness and pleasure that spills between his warm, bare thighs.

An entire strand, I'll take the precious beads in my mouth. Watch him as he watches me melt them down and swallow it down like warm milk.

I'll tell him he tastes sweet and that he looks like a dream, feel him settle between my arms.

And maybe I'll be holding the bright side of the moon.

Sometimes I forget that I'm just bones and boiling hot blood and atoms moving and diffusing in a frenzy. I'm quiet breaths, then stillness, then silence.

Then nothing more than darkness.

Stars fall, silvery soft snowflakes, droplets of rain, velvet soft petals, dying leaves, teardrops, heavy eyelids.

And me for him above all else.

Falling in love doesn't make perfect sense. It hardly makes sense at all. You're just spiraling and sputtering and then someone is swiftly catching you, cradling your heart. Storing you in their own, tucking memories safely away.

Pale emerald eyes and rosy cheeks, dark curls spilled across his pillowcase.

He really does look like an angel.

My eyes close again and I drift back to sleep.

When I wake I'm in a cold sweat, a familiar face peers over me, brittle smile stretched across his face.

"Want to spend forever with him? Hmm? That's...cute. He is pretty though, isn't he? I can see why you're so attached. Very beautiful, very pure."

We've focused in on him. He's still sound asleep, chest steadily rising and falling. Early morning light is filtering through the curtains.

He'll wake up soon, pour a cup of coffee, add a dash of creamer and a drop of hazelnut and be on his way to work, grumbling about all the paperwork he has to do before softening at the edges, feeling guilty for taking his job for granted.

Harry is like that.

"He doesn't deserve it," I whisper. "Not so soon, not so young."

"You're all he has left to live for. What would he have left if he realized you are immortal?"

"I...he'd find something else," I reply perplexed. "Someone else," my heart weeps. Would he really move on?

"I'm not so bad," he smirks. "If he dies when you're still part of his life he'll remember you. Rather it be now than when he's sad and lonely, no?"

"Yes," I sigh dejectedly. "But it would be so much easier if I was a human."

My stomach aches and so does my heart. It hurts. I've grown too soft.

I'm squeezing my eyes shut and blinking back tears.

"Time always seemed so insignificant, didn't it? The days just ran together, people were nothing more than empty faces passing by. You didn't know names or backstories. I'm sure you regret it now, becoming so attached. You should have killed him that day."

"Stop," I beg, tears welling. "I don't," my fists clench, chin tips up defiantly. "I'll never regret him. Love is a beautiful thing, you'll never understand."

He nods but remains silent.

"I see. One day you'll learn from your mistakes."

That's it, no searing my flesh, no lashings, no beatings.

Nothing more than an ominous warning and eyes that mock me.

"Harry," I whisper, shaking him awake.

He gives me a small yawn and a dimpled smile, arms stretching.

"Time to get up love."

"Don't wanna," he whines. "Stay and cuddle with me."

His pout is so adorable I wish we could stay in bed all day but that isn't how it works.

"I don't think so," I chuckle. "We have a lunch date later. Remember babe? You'll see me again then."

I peck his lips and he gets up, changing in front of me, ass wiggling.

"Harry! Stop, I'm serious," I say in a fit of laughter.

"Spank me," he giggles.

I grab him, hands gripping at his hips, whispering hotly in his ear. "Tonight."

I feel a shiver run through him. He looks at me, green eyes glistening.

"Is that a promise?"

"Can't say," I bite back a grin. "Get dressed lazy arse."

He chuckles lightly; softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I'll see you later Zayn, I love you."

His lips brush across mine. I fist up his curls and sigh into his mouth. When he pulls away his cheeks are flushed.

"I love you more angel."

When he leaves I deflate. Why is it that I feel empty without him? I was perfectly fine before I met him.

Is this what love does to you?

I miss every dip and curve. Every freckle and flaw. I miss his scattered dark inked tattoos and his sweet smell. I miss the softness of his skin, the warm of his breath, the wetness of the inside of his mouth.

I'm...lost. I frown to myself and walk into the bathroom, stunned as I look in the mirror.

Sharp, chiseled cheekbones and long lashes. Full, sweeping lips and honey colored eyes.

For once I don't feel ugly. I feel beautiful. He tells me I am, he proves it so with gentle caresses and timid kisses.

I press my fingers to my lips where his touched mine, feeling euphoric.

It's like being high, body buzzing as I think of all the things I want to do to him.

I'm hungry for him. I'll devour him, swallow him whole to satisfy my constant craving.

My eyes flash, a rich gold, pupils darkening with lust.

I can't resist the temptation.

He shouldn't be so angelic.


	30. Harry

"Are you okay mate?"

He pats my back and I sigh, fingers running through my hair.

"I should have given you the day off," he frowns. "Force you to take your remaining vacation days," he chuckles.

"It's fine," I smile. "My boyfriend is taking me out for my lunch break."

Boyfriend? I mean I suppose we're dating, it just feels strange saying that. My heart tumbles in my chest.

"Ahh, much needed. You deserve that."

My gaze lands on the framed picture of me hugging my mum, huge silly smile on my face. She looks so young.

"She would want you to be happy. Did they ever meet?"

"No," I say regretfully. "She would have loved him I'm sure...it's hard not to love Zayn."

"Same goes for you," he laughs lightly. "Back to work, you're doing great," he encourages.

I release a heavy sigh I was holding in, shoulders slumping as I chew on my pen cap. I glance at the clock, counting down the minutes until I'll see him again.

I must be crazy. He's all I ever think about.

Zayn is so ethereal. The moon lives beneath the lining of his skin. There's a fire within him, burning in his soul and in his glowing amber eyes.

Sometimes he takes my breath away but usually he reminds me how to breathe.

There's something familiar about Zayn. It feels as though we've met in a different time, in a different place, like our souls were already connected.

Maybe he is an angel. A fallen one and he's here to keep me safe; a guardian.

I busy myself, startled when everything goes black.

"Guess who?"

"Babe you scared me! It isn't funny."

"Aww," he coos, kissing my cheek. "I'll make it up to you. What sounds good?"

"Pita bread. Lots of fucking carbs. It all goes to my thighs."

He chuckles and takes my hand, leading me to his car. He opens the door for me like a gentleman and I blush furiously at the gesture.

"Hey," he rests his hand on my thigh, fingers spreading out. "I like your thighs. You okay? Why so quiet babe?"

"I'm okay," I grin over at him.

"You sure?"

His fingers ruffle my hair and I purr.

"S'that feel good babe?"

He gently scratches at my scalp making my head tingle. He stretches across the console, nibbles at my earlobe.

"Stop," I shriek.

"Alright," he chuckles. "You gotta shave for me babe. I want to try something tonight, want to make you feel so good," he whispers huskily, voice dropping low as he tucks a curl behind my ear.

"Are we getting food or are you going to eat me?"

He chuckles and my heart grows warm, settling when he pulls away.

"A true gentleman never eats his dessert first," he smirks.

I'm rolling my eyes, laughter spilling from my lips.

"So...Greek food?"

I nod affirmatively and after what seems like eternity he pulls out of the parking space. He taps on the steering wheel, whistling a tune.

"How's school," I break the silence.

"Uh it's alright," he shrugs as we get caught at a red light and bites at his lip.

He always does that when he's nervous about something.

"Do you believe in angels, like actually believe in them?"

"Sometimes I think you're an angel," I admit softly. "I know it sounds crazy but you just happened to come into my life when I really needed someone and you look like one."

"Is that so? How would you know what angels look like? Where are my wings?"

"Whatever," I laugh lightly. "You're nothing short of a miracle Zayn."

"I'm really not," he replies hurriedly.

"Why do you always do that," I frown.

"What's that?"

I swear I'm going to pull my hair out from his roots.

"Sell yourself short. Am I missing something?"

His jaw is set tight. He gives his head a firm shake and I'm itching for actual answers.

"What are you? An ex-convict or something? Why can't you be fucking honest with me?"

I'm crying again like an overly senstive baby and he's reaching his breaking point.

"You wouldn't believe me! Just stop," his fists pound at the steering wheel. "Please," he pleads, voice breaking. "I'd never hurt you and that's all that matters. I'm so in love with you," he whispers hoarsely. "So in love."

We're stuck in another parking lot, sitting in front of one of my favorite restaurants. Neither of us move, neither of us move to open the door.

We don't utter a word. Silence fills the space all around me and I feel like I'm suffocating.

"You've hurt people before? Killed someone? That's...the knife," I whisper to myself. "A gang? Are you in financial trouble? Talk to me, help me out Zayn."

"I've hurt plenty of people," he answers honestly.

"You don't think you're worthy of love, is that what this is? You're so stuck in the past you don't realize-"

"I don't deserve you."

I let that sink in, every piece of me shattering.

"What are you saying? You don't want to see me anymore?"

His eyes are wet with tears. He turns to look out the window and I look down at my lamp, hands folded as I chew at the inside of my lip.

"I never meant for any of this to happen."

"You didn't mean to fall in love? What was it, a fucking accident Zayn? You know what...maybe I do deserve better than this and all your sorry excuses. I've given you everything. You're all I have and I-"

He's leaning in, cupping my face in his hands, lips crushing against mine.

Why do I always fall for this? This is so toxic. Tears are sliding down my cheeks but I can't find the strength to pull away.

His kisses grow soft. Feather like, his hands gentle and I melt.

"I can't walk away," he caresses my cheek. "I tried to keep my distance, fearing I'd hurt you but I love you too much and I can't go back. Nothing will change that. We both made a promise to be here for each other."

"I need you," I choke out. "More than ever."

"I need you too angel."


	31. death sixteen

"This rice is so good," I moan. "And the sauce, whatever it is-"

"Tzatziki sauce," he chuckles and folds his grilled pita, feta cheese, chopped tomatoes and kalamata olives spilling out.

"What are those?" I point curiously, nose scrunching up.

"Pepperoncini peppers."

I snort and try to muffle my laughter as I dig back into my food.

"What's so funny?"

"Isn't that redundant? The word pepper is already in the name yet you still specified that it's a type of pepper."

"Whatever smartass, that's what they're called."

He bites back a smile and my hand covers his, thumb stroking over his pale skin.

"You feeling better?"

"Feeling stuffed," he jokes. "Thanks for taking me out. We haven't really been on a lot of dates," he frowns. "I'd like to do more with you...maybe take some photos of you with my camera if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course! Do you mind sharing some of your photography with me?"

He smiles brightly, eyes glimmering.

"I'd love that. You're actually interested? I'm still a bit of an amateur," he blushes.

"If it makes you happy I fully support it. Besides, you can always take photography classes."

"Hey Zayn...why don't you rent out your flat? You moved in with me anyway."

Where do I go once you're gone?

I swallow thickly and blink back tears.

"It's okay, I can afford things just fine."

He gives me a suspicious look and I sigh, fingers carding through my hair.

"I work at the bookstore on campus. It isn't much but it's something. Plus I'm getting paid to be a research assistant and the pay for that isn't half bad-"

"You never actually seem to be at school."

The worst lie you could have possibly fabricated. I'm in school.

"Fair enough," I shrug before tearing apart a piece of my pita bread. "I still want to go stargazing with you but maybe I should let you pick a location you want to photograph and we can make a day of it."

"I like that," he grins. "We should go to Brighton, spend some time at the pier or maybe a weekend away in London."

"I'd follow you anywhere," I reply softly.

His cheeks flush, eyelashes grazing his skin as he looks down. I swear he grows more beautiful each day.

"Sorry I upset you earlier angel. You're honestly, whole-heartedly the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Zayn," his voice snags, tears welling in his eyes.

I just want to hug him.

"Babe, don't cry."

The pad of my thumb swipes away his tears and I lean across the table to kiss him, not caring where we are.

"I guess I have to head back to work," he laughs and I happily pay the bill.

Our fingers lace together as we walk to the car and I'm smiling, heart as full as my belly.

"This was nice," I admit. "We can always have a relaxed evening, dinner and a movie. Maybe some fancy wine."

"Or board games and video games," he gives me a dimpled grin.

"That too."

I ruffle his hair and be purrs before pulling me close, catching me by surprise as he parts my lips. He has me pressed against the car, fingers lost in my quiff and it's so fucking good.

He's warm skin and tender kisses and he smells cozy and comforting with a hint of lingering musk.

And his mouth is so wet.

His skin is porcelain, cheeks rose tinted.

Everything about him is familiar to me. He pulls away with a sigh and I trace the outline of his lips.

The swallows beneath his collarbone, that butterfly tattoo I found completely hideous but have grown quite fond of and the smaller ones scattered on his arms, trailing to his thumb where the small cross is.

He's dotted with freckles. Along his back, scattered in other places.

Harry is the only thing that has ever felt like home. I ache to be near him, to simply be touching in some way. Hips pressed together, fingers grazing...anything.

I used to be so merciless. Ruthless and cold and closed up but now I mourn souls I never knew.

As free and boundless and Harry is, I love him that much and if he ever doubts his existence I want him to know that he couldn't be replaced by a thousand stars.

Shiver, melt, never move on.

I've decided he smells the way January feels and speaks feathery soft. I fall asleep to dreams of him, his nose pressed to my shoulder blade. The boy who smiles at babies babbling their own secret language, who laughs at dad jokes.

Sometimes when I'm alone and my soul feels thick, the heaviness of sorrow weighing at my shoulders, coldness seeping into my pillowcase, I can feel the moonlight laugh at me; beautiful but jagged and I think of how much he loves the stars.

He is a star. I place my right hand over my left side, feeling the steady beat of my heart. Something promises me that I am alive for a reason.

Harry.

Dull thuds against cold fingers, rattling in my dusty ribcage. I swallow all the bitterness I can and wring out my tear soaked heart.

He's there to paint the silver beneath my tired eyes down to the curves of my cheekbones and graces my skin with his lips.

He tells me to breathe.

And I weep silently and tell him the world wants him to wake up tomorrow.

I want him to wake up.

"What are you thinking about babe?"

"How much better life is when I wake up next to you."

"I'm hopelessly in love with you," he whispers.

He embraces me, nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck and my heart blossoms like a well watered seed.

"We are definitely making love tonight," I chuckle.

"I like that. With Louis is was just sex. It was sloppy and rough but I don't want to rush with you."

"We'll take it slow babe," I ruffle his hair. "I'm going to cherish you," I kiss the crook of his neck and open the car door. "Work calls, huh?"

"Always," he rolls his eyes.

"First work, then play," I smirk.


	32. Harry

"Zayn," I call out, hair a mess as I rush through the door.

There's no response and my heart drops just a little, my yearning growing. It's crazy how much I miss him.

My phone rings and I press it between my ear and my shoulder as I nearly trip taking off my dress shoes.

"Harry Styles, EY-"

The man grumbles on the other end of the line before rattling off a string of complaints about not receiving a sales discount on when he ordered "well within the discount period," and I fumble for a pen, jotting a few things down.

Why'd I take this job and why was I so enthusiastic about getting the damn promotion?

"You listening kid?"

I set my jaw tight and fake a cheery attitude.

"Yes sir, I'm very sorry about that. Truly sorry. Tax season is drawing near and-"

"I didn't ask for excuses," he snaps. "Someone needs to fix this. You're in payroll, I was told to contact you. Can you help me or not?"

The door opens. Zayn is carrying a plain brown paper sack with handles and a vibrant bouquet of flowers.

"Yes, of course! I'll take that amount off for you, just let me-"

"I don't have all day. I'm supposed to be in Shanghai-"

Zayn sends me a sympathetic look and after more bickering I resolve the issue and hang up, rubbing at my temples.

"What gives," he chuckles, trimming the stems and dropping the flowers in a vase.

"Cranky old people. Why the flowers babe?"

He wraps his arms around me and kisses the tip of my cheekbone.

"Just thought it was a romantic gesture."

"I wanted to be a guitar instructor," I sigh dejectedly. "Why'd I go to business school?"

"It's okay, relax."

I sink into the couch and he massages my shoulders.

"Ben wants me to transfer to headquarters in London. Can you believe that?"

"Well, are you considering it?"

I shake my head, eyes closing as he kneads out the knots, all the tenseness leaving my body.

"My heart isn't in it anymore Zayn."

"Your job you mean?"

He stops and pulls me onto his lap, fingers carding through my curls.

"Yeah, not us. I'll always be invested in us. What should I do? I feel really lost right now."

"How much is it worth to you?"

Not enough.

"I thought I had everything figured out, that's what is so scary about this. My job is steady, it's routine. I'm climbing up the corporate ladder, one rung away from big success but my mum died and everything is spiraling out of control. I'm just not starting to realize what makes me truly happy and she was a huge part of that and...of course I fell in love with you. That changed everything."

"How so?"

"It feels like a bigger purpose, watching you fall in love when you thought you didn't deserve it. At the end of the day that means a hell of a lot more than being cramped up at some cubicle."

His thumbs rub little circles into my hipbones, mouth working at my jaw.

"Z-zayn," my cheeks flush. "What did you buy?"

"Nothing," he laughs, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Riiight, the bag is just empty."

"You're not being very angelic, don't think I'll take it easy on you," his lips brush beneath my shirt, tickling my collarbone.

"I'm trembling," I joke.

But then I'm stunned, being pinned beneath him and he growls. It's a sound so gruff and so raw a shiver runs through me.

Flashing amber eyes and dark, dilated pupils, teeth catching my earlobe.

His nose presses to the crook of my neck. He inhales deeply.

"You smell so good."

"What do I smell like," I laugh softly.

"Pomegranate, musk...amber and something floral. Lotus or maybe magnolia. I'm not sure but it's distinctly you."

I snuggle closer, eyelids fluttering closed as he traces his fingers along my ribcage.

"I'm in desperate need of a shower."

"I'll run you a hot bath," he smiles warmly. "You deserve one."

He gets up and I curl up on the couch, eyelids droopy and fall asleep.

"Babe," he shakes me awake. "You alright?"

"Heavy sleeper," I reply with a yawn.

I'm caught by surprise as he scoops me up, my arms wrap around his neck and we're both laughing for no reason but that's okay.

Sometimes you need that.

I peel off my shirt and fumble for my zipper but he stops me.

"Let me undress you," he whispers.

Of course I cave easily and he lifts me up before setting me gently in the water.

"My day got a million times better," I grin.

"Wait," he laughs and strips down, hips bracketing my waist, the water rippling around us.

"Okay, it definitely reached its peak."

"You're silly," he chuckles and works my shampoo into a lather, fingers scrubbing diligently at my scalp.

"Okay, if you had to choose...a world with no music or a world with no color?"

"Hmm...I don't particularly like that question. There are people born deaf and blind or they're simply colorblind. They learn to adapt and they are perfectly happy. They don't deserve that. Nobody deserves to be born with a disability or to develop cancer-"

I let that sink in and he freezes up.

"Sorry, I usually depend on you to see the bright side of things. I read entirely too deep into that one. I guess what I meant to say is they're humble and blessed and damn thankful despite their unfair circumstances. Despite...the uneven odds."

"No, I like your sensitivity. When we first met you didn't let that show. I think you were scared to open up to someone. Maybe life has been unkind to you but-"

My words fail me, I feel breathless and dizzy all at once.

"You okay?"

"I hope things have changed for you. There's beauty in everything if you know where to look. There's kindness in everyone and I truly do believe you can't live happily without ever experiencing fear and heartache. In the moment it feels like you're breaking but everything mends in time."

"Maybe I was afraid of warmth but then I let you hold me and I realized the darkness was never my friend at all, it was just something I counted on to always be there."

There's silence and then the soft splash of water and a slow drip from the faucet.

Everyone hurts in different shades of he left me when I needed him most blue, she made me feel worthless chartreuse and his fists wouldn't stop swinging crimson. We blister in violet and scar in lilac tones.

We bleed and cry in technicolor but paint our cheeks baby pink and our smiles dazzling white.

Relapse, lies and addiction are some of the darkest hues. And death black as night.

We all too easily leave marks on each other but never see our bodies as the brilliant canvases they truly are. Some are masterpieces, others a work in progress.

Seeing freckles, wrists, and eyes the same empty shade as our own makes as sad when we should realize we're all just messy creations.

Beautiful collections of art and human experience.

So when he presses a wet rag to the scar he accidentally left on my skin I wonder if he realizes that's all forgiven.

I love him.

I'm still unfinished

and need his careful fingers to craft me


	33. death seventeen

+mature

I dry him off and he giggles as the fluffy towel runs through his damp curls. I pepper his face with kisses before carrying him bridal style, placing him gently on the bed.

"You're beautiful Zayn."

My heart dances in my chest as I scoop down to kiss him, legs straddling his waist.

So are you my angel.

The kiss deepens and I get lost in him, hands roaming his torso, tongue furling. The inside of his mouth is wet and sweet and indescribably good.

He looks like heaven, cheeks flushed, eyelids fluttering closed as my lips travel to his neck, littering little love bites. Soft moans slip from his lips and he fists up the sheets, body relaxing as I leave an open-mouthed kiss on his warm shoulder.

I kiss a trail down his stomach, stopping just above his waist, moving to his hipbones before kissing all the way back up.

"Zayn," his voice quivers. 

I roll his hardened nipple between my fingers but quickly soften it with my mouth, licking a circle around his pink bud.

His hips buck slightly, back arching beautifully off the bed. I can feel his hardness beneath me. I'm tempted to stroke him and get him off quickly but I have other plans.

My lips kiss his inner thighs before spending time tracing around his healing wound.

He opens his eyes, a deep shade of emerald so rare my breath hitches.

I'm melting for him, stopping to tuck a stray curl behind his ear.

"I'll be back babe."

He whimpers at the loss of contact and grabs for my hand. I smile and press a feather-like kiss to the corner of his mouth, returning with the mysterious brown sack.

"I noticed you shaved when I gave you your bath. That's good babe and I now you're squeaky clean which is really important."

"Okay," he replies quietly. "I trust you and whatever is in the bag."

"Good," I chuckle. "Face the headboard, on your knees."

It's a softly spoken order and he's obedient.

"Wasn't expecting this," he admits, arching his bum, elbows flat on the bed.

"Nice view," I say, kneading his cheeks. "If you need a pillow-"

"I'm alright...thank you."

I caress him for a bit and kiss and nibble at his tender cheeks. My breath is warm against his hole. He shivers slightly and the bag rustles as I get out the lube.

"That's scented isn't it?"

"S'that okay? I'm sure you taste great but passion fruit seems a hell of a lot better."

"Fair enough," he laughs.

I start with gentle circular motions around his hole, rubbing a generous amount of lube there before running my tongue over his skin.

He shudders as I lick around and stroke his velvet soft bum. I give him time to adjust before switching to lighter more precise licks with the tip of my tongue. I build up the intensity, lapping slowly and his head drops, an obscene moan spilling from his mouth.

My hands continue to gently stretch apart his cheeks, tongue still flicking before kissing his taint, inner thighs and the backs of his legs.

His body reacts instantly, twitching, headboard knocking against the wall. I don't neglect his growing erection, hands fondling the senstive area.

"Oh fuck," he exhales shakily.

A bead of sweat rolls down the nape of his neck. I want to chase it with my tongue but it's already fast at work.

He trembles, elbows giving out beneath him and I stop to ask if he's okay.

"You alright angel?"

"I don't remember it feeling that good. If you want to take me from behind-"

"No babe, is that what you want? This isn't about me."

His cheeks redden as he rolls over onto his back.

I kiss a lazy line down his bare chest before taking him in my mouth. His jaw goes slack. I'm gentle as I suck because he is still so tender and carefully ease my fingers into him.

My tongue licks his length before taking his balls into my mouth, fingers inching deeper inside of him. 

"Zayn," he purrs.

My hand flips so I can stroke the tightly stretched skin over his perineum, pad of my thumb sweeping.

A small gasp escapes him as my fingers go knuckle deep. He flutters around them, eyelids closing.

"Still okay angel?"

"So good," he murmurs.

I crook my finger until I reach his prostate. His hips buck and he moans my name so loud it bounces off the walls.

His skin is slick, thin layer of sweat covering his body.

I apply more pressure and he lets out a pitiful whimper.

"Let's make love."

"Yes," he replies breathlessly and rolls over for me.

I'm reaching around for more lube, coating my member and lining myself up before easing into him.

"Not too fast babe."

I dip down to kiss the hot skin at the base of his neck.

"God, I love you," his voice shakes.

He grips at the headboard as I push in deeper. My hips snap back before I thrust into him again.

"Don't ever leave me," he cries out. "I need you, I need you, I love you-"

Over and over until his legs are quivering, bed shaking and he's spilling, sighing contently at the release of the tension.

I slow down, riding it out, orgasm hitting me in a strong wave. It builds in my chest and spreads until I'm dizzy with it, body going weak, mind buzzing.

"Harry," I exhale softly, falling limply at his side.

"I just died and went to heaven."

I tuck him safely in my arms, heart thudding against my ribcage.

"I don't want you to die. Stay here with me-"

I'm well aware it was a figure of speech but I also know his death is inevitable and I don't want to face the truth.

"Right here," my lips brush against the crook of his neck. "I love you too. So much Harry."

His gaze is fixed on the stars above us and I can't stop staring at him, heart expanding in my chest.

The moment I saw him I knew.

He's different.

I wanted to get close and that's something I had never felt before. I wish things were simple, I wish I could love him without being afraid.

I'm terrified. Losing him means losing everything.


	34. Harry

I want to do something special for Zayn. Of course I find myself in the kitchen making chocolate chip pancakes because it's quite possibly the best way you can start a day off.

When they're done I kiss him awake and he grins at me sheepishly.

"Morning my love. I made breakfast."

He stretches rather lazily and reaches for my hand. "Help me up or else I'll stay in this bed all day."

I chuckle and pull him up. He throws on a pair of sweats and slaps my bottom as he follows me into the kitchen.

"Zayn," I shriek, the reality of us setting in. "Last night..." my cheeks flush and he brushes some hair out of my face before leaving a lingering kiss on my forehead. "Thank you."

"I love you," he whispers. "There's no need to thank me."

"You've done so much though. Do you maybe want to go on a date tonight? Or are you busy?"

"No, that sounds nice babe."

"I'll plan something special."

His arms wrap around me, head resting on my shoulder, lips finding the crook of my neck.

"Thank you Harry."

"You haven't even eaten your pancakes, they could be complete shit but you're wel-"

"No," his body shakes with laughter, breath warm as it fans across my skin. "For everything. My heart could not be fuller."

"Well your stomach is empty," I transition wittily and he sighs as he pulls away.

"Thinking with your stomach instead of your heart."

He puts a dab of whipped cream on my nose, smile so pure my heart flutters. Zayn deserves happiness and if I bring him that then I'm definitely winning at life.

"You better clean it off," I smirk.

His tongue tickles, wet on my skin and I giggle like a kid in a candy store. Everything Zayn does is sweet, it seems perfectly fitting.

"S'that what you had in mind?"

My cheeks feel heat and he leans across the table to kiss me.

"You have to go to work soon, don't you?"

"Unfortunately," I groan. "I don't know why I'm complaining. It's really selfish."

"Are you kidding me? You're the most selfless person I've ever met. Believe me I-," he stops to lick his lips, eyes searching mine deeply. "Don't be so hard on yourself. No one is completely content with their life."

"I should do more to help those who aren't as fortunate," I frown. "It just doesn't feel right when I act a brat."

His brows knit together, dark and untidy but so perfect.

"You've touched a lot of people in ways you don't even realize. Sometimes even a simple smile can make a difference in someone's life and you've certainly changed mine...if that counts for anything."

A single tear streaks down my cheek and my knuckles wipe it away.

"Babe don't cry, it's alright."

"You mean so much to me. I always wanted this, to be able to-" my voice quivers.

"Touch someone?"

I nod, eyes stinging as more tears well.

"I was afraid of falling in love...of actually touching someone with my fingers...of ever feeling anything at all," he shakes his head, partial smile on his face. "You touch people in a different way Harry Styles."

"I touch neglected hearts," I whisper. "And you touch weeping skin."

His eyes are a warm shade of gold and his arm outstretches, hand caressing my cheek. The soft pad of his thumb strokes beneath my jaw and my heart must sigh a thousand times over.

"That's the thing about us. Our hearts and our bodies are connected. You can't touch one without touching the other."

Now my tears are slipping until they reach his tan hand and his fingertips collect the droplets. I can taste the saltiness in my mouth, tongue trailing over my moist bottom lip.

"I love when we're touching," he murmurs.

"I should really get ready for work," I exhale heavily, not wanting to break the moment.

"I'll do the dishes, don't worry about them."

He stays true to his word, scrubbing off the syrup before loading the dishwasher, hands submerged in suds. But of course he still follows me into the bedroom to distract me.

I'm sat on the edge of the bed trying to knot my tie when he grabs ahold of it, tugging me close, legs straddling my waist.

"You're so fucking sexy."

His fingers run through my hair and a deep shiver runs down my spine.

"You like that?"

"Zayn I'm seriously going to be late."

Not that I mind.

He kisses me, hand cupping my jaw. I'll have to cover the lovebites he scatters on my neck with my collar.

My cheeks redden for the millionth time as he pulls back and chuckles cheerily.

"You look like such a mess," he teases.

I bury my face in the crook of his neck, heart ticking steadily.

"Harry," he murmurs, fingers combing out my tangles. "I love you."

He's said it two times since he woke up and it does something to me.

It always will.

"Okay, I'm done torturing you."

"Tonight," I grin cheekily.

I kiss his temple hurriedly before hastily pulling on some dress shoes.

"I can punish you tonight?"

"Yes Zayn," I reply with a laugh. "If you so choose but I'm always an angel. Don't forget that."

He huffs, arms folding over his chest. "I swear if you didn't have to go to work I'd-"

I playfully punch his arm and his mouth snaps closed.

One tally for Harry.

"Well then I might tie you to the bedpost and fuck you into the mattress, you're being so-"

My hand cups his mouth, muffling the sound, warm air hitting the inside of my palm.

Two for Zayn.

His hand finds the crook of my wrist, prying my arm away. He traces circles into my hips, breath hot as obscene words fall from his lips.

We've always been slow and full of curiosity, exploring each other's bodies, caressing and stroking. Landing sweet nothings as our limbs get tangled between the sheets but I like Zayn's dark side more than I want to admit.

"Won't be able to walk straight for a week, gonna still feel me inside of you-"

He scatters more kisses along my neck and my heart pounds against its cage, yearning to break free.

"You're making me very late," I say sternly.

"You should call in sick."

"Fine, I just won't come home tonight," I snap.

He freezes up and I instantly regret saying it.

"Okay," he lets out a sigh of defeat. "All joking aside, you better get going."

"Zayn I was-"

He brushes me away, gaze cast on the floor.

I shudder and step outside, the fierce wind catching the door.

It's especially cold today.


	35. death eighteen

*mature

He didn't mean it.

It still hurts.

I don't care if I'm tortured until my skin peels off. All I want is for things to be okay between Harry and I. I'm always putting him above myself and I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing.

It's easy to convince myself that I'm not as worthy of love as other people but he wouldn't want that.

Seeing Harry flip made me uncomfortable to say the least.

He's usually all smiles. Clumsy but gentle and kind.

Maybe it's stress but I never expected that. Surely it wasn't personal.

Most of the time Harry is open, much less reserved than I am but he still closes up sometimes. Folds in on himself, knees pressed to his chest.

When he feels pain in that way I have to wrap him up in my arms and pepper his face with kisses until he giggles, those deep-set dimples showing.

I hope his pain fades quickly. I hope it's never been insurmountable, taking lashings and beatings...that's nothing. Pain is being responsible for a miscarriage. For freak accidents and months of failed chemo therapy when you know they won't beat the odds. It's finding someone you love when you damn well know they'll be taken from you and you're heaving for air, chest tight, mind in a tailspin because it's all your fault.

You have to deliver the final blow.

It punctures your heart.

I want to shatter into a million pieces or collapse, head knocking against the cold and unforgiving tile floor. I wish it was that easy. I wish the misery would end but I'm stuck here.

For now I have Harry and every moment with him is worth it. The breath I spend on him, the words I murmur into his curls, the long hours we just lie awake and my fingertips trail along his naked skin.

He's rippled and strong yet soft in all the right places. I'm sharper, all angles and awkward points but his body curves so beautifully.

I like the way we fit. I like when our fingers lace or when my arms wrap around his waist and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest and the steadiness of his heartbeat.

He's bad jokes and chick-flicks but I don't mind one bit. I'd watch Pretty Woman a thousand more times if it meant being close to him.

That's all anyone ever hopes for.

Closeness.

A sense of belonging and I've found that now, I never had anything to call home but he's it. Harry feels like home.

Our noses nudging, toes touching at the foot of the bed...all of the things that seem so insignificant are the reasons why my heart flutters.

We're connected in a way that goes beyond touch.

When I'm with Harry the rest of the world melts away. He brings out a different side of me. One full of compassion and forgiveness and sometimes hope.

Short-lasting as the Devil awaits me.

"Would it be easier on you if you didn't trust the boy?"

"Why would I-"

"You're naive, pretending he can't hurt you. Do you know where he is right now?"

I'm supposed to believe him over Harry? His eyes mock me, mouth stretched into a brittle smile.

"He's at work," I reply hoarsely, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Let me show you something," he smirks and a searing light nearly knocks me to my feet. I shield my eyes, fearing I'll go blind but then for the first time ever

hell feels cold

"No," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. "No stop," I shout. "You're controlling me! Stop using me. Please," I beg, shoulders shaking as I sob. "Harry loves me."

"Something tells me otherwise."

"He would," I sharply inhale air, fighting for my breath. "Never hurt me like that."

"You're in denial sweetheart. Cheer up," he pinches my cheeks and I fight off a growl. "You can end his life. End all the hurt."

My eyes squeeze shut. Time passes agonizingly slow.

God if you're out there please save me from this and most importantly save me from myself.

Everything happens in a flash, my anger boiling when Harry comes home, wide smile on his face. 

"Hi babe," he pecks my cheek.

I'm fisting up his collar, slamming him up against the wall. He looks stunned, eyes blown wide.

"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?"

"Zayn what are you-"

"Answer me," I spit.

I've never seen someone look so terrified. Then again, I've never felt so betrayed.

"Please," he chokes on a sob. "I love you. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it."

"This isn't about that. It's about kissing Louis!"

His body freezes up, face dropping and I want to bash his head against the wall.

"How did you...he came to apologize. I swear to you he made the move on me. Zayn please," he whimpers pitifully, clutching to my shirtsleeve. "I love you," he repeats again, softer this time.

It stirs something inside of me. He looks so fragile and so vulnerable, eyes meeting mine.

Of course I believe him. Harry is the most harmless creature in the universe.

"Harry," I sigh, tracing the outline of his lips.

"I love you."

Third time, tears streaking down his cheeks, I have to kiss them away.

"I'm yours always Zayn."

He presses impossibly closer to me, our noses grazing. My hand cups beneath his jaw, thumb stroking a soft patch of skin ad our lips collide. I'm hoisting him up and his legs wrap around my waist.

My heartbeat is erratic. His hair is wild, cheeks flushed.

I sweep him off to the bedroom and gently place him on the bed.

He smiles up at me and reaches for my hand, our fingers entwined.

"Hi angel," I chuckle.

"I planned something special for you," he grins. "Tomorrow night."

Then he's pulling me down in a fit of giggles, kissing the corner of my mouth.

His fingers get lost in my quiff, soft smile on his face. He kisses me again and a moan gets caught in the back of my throat as he cups my arse, slick tongue exploring the inside of my mouth.

When he stops my heart slows and I find myself beneath the weight of his body, his legs straddling my waist.

We're swapping places as his fingers slip beneath my shirt, skimming my hips, feeling the outline of my ribcage.

"I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?"

He peels his shirt off, eyes mischievous as he bites back a grin.

"Yes," I answer breathlessly.

I'm losing touch with reality as he tugs my shirt up over my head, teeth catching on my nipples. His finger runs along the seam of my back. His tongue is so wet, so warm as it laps at my nipple that I feel myself shaking.

Get a grip Zayn.

He moves between both buds until my skin is sticky with sweat, our bodies slick, skin catching.

He kisses me again, tongue trailing my bottom lip. I sigh into the kiss as his tongue flicks against mine. I make a small whimpering sound, melting into it.

I'm wriggling beneath him, practically rutting against the sheets and I've never been so desperate.

And he's never looked so angelic but acted so naughty.

I'm moaning his name by the time his teeth tug at my nipple. My member is twitching against his warm thigh as he rolls my nipple slowly between his forefinger and thumb.

I'm so fucking hard I can't think straight.

His mouth moves to etch the outlines of my tattoos. He kisses a lazy line down my stomach and my hips lift off the bed, back arching as he stops just above my waistband.

He fumbles for my zipper and yanks down my jeans. They pool at my ankles but he's too impatient to take them off fully, hand fisting my throbbing cock.

His strokes are slow but perfect and I grow harder and harder. He thumbs over my tip until there's a tiny pearl of pre-come which he gladly licks away. My body reacts instantly, hips snapping forward as he takes me in his mouth.

He curls his fingers around my base as I guide him, hands in his soft curls.

"Fuck angel," I rasp out. "So good, your mouth is so good baby."

The look he gives me. Cheeks the color of a budding rose bush, sweat beading at his forehead as he peeks up under long dark lashes. If anything could kill death, it would be that.

I buck as his cheeks hollow more and his mouth flitters around me, my tip hitting the back of his throat. He hums around me, sending little vibrations that drive me to the edge.

He pulls off with an obscene pop, hairline wet, cheeks flushed.

His hand wraps around me, pumping harder until I moan out a warning

"Harry m'gonna-"

My thighs tremble, whole body quaking as my orgasm rips through me, a familiar warmth growing in my belly.

I release my load quickly, white liquid spurting onto his chest and cheek. He opens his mouth just in time, one final stripe landing on his baby pink tongue.

I'm still shaking as I watch him swallow it, heart slamming against my ribs.

I want him. I want him so bad, my eyes drinking him in.

His eyes are the darkest shade of emerald I've ever seen, clouded with a combination of love and lust.

"Do you really think I'd mess with Louis?"

I smirk, fingers lost in his curls.

"I think it's my turn angel."


	36. Harry

*mature & the song is Stargazing by Kygo

"Harry," he says breathlessly. "This is so beautiful."

"I know you were upset about not being able to see the stars with me and I didn't know when we'd get the chance...I still want to do that with you but I thought it would be nice to bring the stars to you."

Between the wall of starry string lights and the planetarium projector I might have gone a bit overboard but it feels so magical, all the tiny lights twinkling.

"I can't believe you did this for me and the canopy-"

His eyes are glowing amber, tender smile on his face as he pulls me onto the bed.

"We're floating on the clouds Harry."

My eyes flutter closed as his hand caresses my cheek, skin warmer than I've ever felt before.

"Zayn," I open my eyes, cheeks tinted pink as his thumb traces the outline of my lips. "This isn't it. I need to grab something."

"Okay love," he chases my lips before moving off of me. "I'll miss you."

I chuckle at how absurd it is to miss me for a couple of minutes but my heart flips nonetheless.

His brows shoot up when I return with my guitar. He tries to bite back a smile but just can't, tongue pressing in front of his dazzling teeth.

"Wait," I set down the guitar and fetch my camera from its case, uncapping the lens. "Stay just like that."

I snap a few photos, scrolling until I find one that makes my breath hitch. The soft light hits him perfectly. His skin is glowing, golden eyes glimmering. He looks so happy, smile so genuine that I set down my camera to kiss him.

Everywhere. His jaw, his neck, his collarbone.

"I'm taking a million more of you so I'll always be able to look back at the particular moment I captured...what we were going through at the time. That cliche saying that a picture is worth a thousand words is actually true. It's hard to put my thoughts into words. Here," I pick up my camera and select the photo. He sits up and carefully takes it from me.

Silence settles between us as he stares at the screen. He says nothing but he doesn't have to. The tears in his eyes say it all.

"You're really talented Harry. This is so natural and pure."

"I love how candid it is. Look at how the light illuminates your right side and the shadows it casts on your other side. It's like there is moonlight dancing on your skin."

"Starlight," he whispers before cupping my jaw.

Our lips crash, hearts collide and I can practically still see the stars behind my closed eyelids.

The tips of our tongues catch. We've done this so many times but it feels brand new. New sparks. I feel breathless. I open my eyes but the lights are blurred. He's the only thing in focus. I'm melting into this kiss, surprised by the warmth of his mouth; inside so incredibly soft I nearly weep.

It isn't hurried or careless. It's so passionate I ache.

I feel wonder struck as my eyelids shiver and shut again.

He deepens the kiss but it's far from sloppy. I'm sighing deep into his mouth, feeling nothing but safety as he wraps me up in his arms, hand cupping the nape of my neck, thumb pressed to the sensitive skin where my messy curls stop.

When he pulls away time starts back up and I lean down to fetch my guitar from where it sits at the edge of the bed.

"You can always find me in the stars," I smile as I start to strum, heart tumbling around in my chest.

The words flow out with ease and my nervousness escapes me as he gazes at me like I'm God's gift to the world.

You're saying it's hopeless, that I should hope less  
Heaven can help us, well maybe she might  
You say it's beyond us, what is beyond us  
Let's see and decide  
We've been meteoric, even before this  
Burns half as long when it's twice as bright  
So if it's beyond us, then it's beyond us  
Let's see and decide

And I will still be here, stargazing  
I'll still look up, look up  
Look up for love  
I will still be here, stargazing  
I'll still look up, look up  
Look up for love

I can't finish. I ditch the guitar and embrace Zayn. His tears soak my shirtsleeve so I rub gently at the small of his back and murmur into his ear.

"Shh, it's okay. I love you so much. I love you."

His body trembles as he sobs harder.

"Babe what's wrong? Tell me," I coax. "I hate seeing you this way."

"I am so in love with you," he whispers. "You're all I could ever ask for Harry Styles, the brightest star there ever was and you're mine. I dunno...it just feels so surreal. All I want to do is protect you and love you and cherish you in the way you deserve."

"You already do that babe."

He lays flat on his back. The stars are reflected in his eyes. Our fingers touch and our souls meet.

"I can't get over how perfect this is. It feels like a dream."

"This is how I want to pass. Of course nobody chooses how they die but still if I was with you I wouldn't be scared. You'd assure me that everything will be okay and I'd surrender so easily. Just like this Zayn. I'd let death take me."

I turn to face him and nudge against his side. He cuddles me, fingers lost in my hair.

I feel a deep shiver run through him and he clutches onto me tighter, locking me in his arms.

My body suddenly feels so exhausted, sleep tugging heavily at my eyelids.

"Just like this," he echoes. "So peaceful."

I'm drifting slowly, the lights glare of the lights smudging out. My mind is in a stupor...some sort of thick fog. It feels as if all the edges around me soften.

My heartbeat slows. His breath is warm on my skin.

"I love you."

I say it back, words slurred from sleepiness.

"I love you too. You're the-"

An almost euphoric sensation washes over me. I'm so sensitive to his touch as his fingers skin my neck. It feels so sensual and so pleasurable I'm not quite sure why.

I moan softly as he kisses my sweet-spot, a familiar floaty feeling taking over me.

Perhaps I'm already dead and this is heaven. A warm feeling washes over me, entire body tingling as he kisses the patch of skin behind my ear. He nibbles at my earlobe, before his teeth graze and tug, making me pulsate.

Everything feels strange but so so so good.

My clothes end up on the floor, my body beneath his. He kisses the inside of my thighs before licking a stripe from the underside of my shaft to my tip.

I'm shaking terribly as he fists me, tongue gently lapping at my head.

My body seems to sink deeper into the mattress, head hitting the pillow with a soft thud.

It doesn't take long before I'm coming so hard I nearly blackout.

I'm completely spent, mind still hazy.

"I'll always love you angel," his fingers massage my scalp, making my head tingle.

Just like this.

Just like this.

Just like

And I'm gone


	37. death nineteen

"Harry," my voice breaks. I'm choking on a sob. It gets caught in the back of my throat, my fragile heart shattering as I place my hand over his forehead.

He looks so beautiful; so serene.

"Just like this Zayn. I'd let death take me."

"I'm sorry," I weep softly. "I warned you so many times, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I love you. I'll always love you," warm tears prick my eyes.

My hand moves over his chest, a sinking feeling settling in.

I swallow thickly, bite my bottom lip until it bleeds. The tears start streaking down my cheeks and just won't stop.

No lull of his heartbeat. No familiar tick. No comfort as I take his fingers in mine.

Just stone cold, cheeks the color of porcelain.

"I did this," I whisper, a mixture of rage and heartache and hopelessness consuming me.

Then sorrow. An overwhelming wave of it knocking the breath straight out of me. My body is racked with sobs.

I gather him up in my arms.

Nothing has ever hurt like this.

"Please forgive me. Please angel. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to quit your job," I sniffle. "Wanted you to fill a whole photo album of us, wanted to spend every waking moment with you, sneaking kisses and sharing laughter. I believe in God. I believe in miracles...I believe in angels," I stroke his hairline. "I loved you so fully, so deeply I was willing to give you the world. I hope you realize that. I'd string up all the stars and bring them to you. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to grow fat and old and happy. I would have been right there with you and loved you just the same. We could have started a family...your eyes always lit up when you saw a kid or held a chubby baby in your steady arms. I can see a tiny finger latching with yours," my heart swells as I wipe away my tears. "She'd be beautiful, eyes just like you. Bubble baths and lullabies. I didn't know your voice was so mesmerizing. I'd do anything to listen to you sing again. Anything to kiss you, make love to you. You always made me feel complete. Now...I feel as though half of me is missing and I want nothing more than to die by your side. Death has never sounded so beautiful."

The realization of it all dawns on me.

I killed him.

We had more time but I knew I couldn't avoid it forever.

My body is trembling so bad, nose nudging the crook of his neck, his messy chocolate curls tickling my skin.

"I wanted more dates. I wanted to make you feel special. Nobody will ever compare to you Harry Styles. Never," I whisper. "But I don't regret us. I'd fall for you again a thousand times over. You taught me how to love myself but all that time I kept falling harder for you. Would you still love me if you knew the truth? I wanted to tell you, we never hid things from each other. You opened up to me and I unraveled for you."

I roll up his shirt and gently kiss his scar. If that's the only mark I left on him I'll hate myself for the rest of eternity.

"You'll never feel hurt again," I murmur, lips skimming his neck and collarbone.

When I kiss his cheek my wet long lashes flutter against his skin, leaving a few droplets. I want to wipe them away but my hand is shaking uncomfortably.

He still smells like warm vanilla and amber. Musky but sweet.

I know that traces of him will fade. His lingering scent on the pillowcase-

It hurts too much to think about it. For now he's still wrapped up in my strong arms.

I'm sure it's the most ironic thing, me enveloping him and kissing him, trying to keep him safe from his fears when I'm death.

When it's already too late.

"You can join your mum now. She'll be so delighted to see you. The lads will miss you but I'll try my absolute best to cheer them up. This is the hardest and harshest reality I've ever had to face. It doesn't feel real...I wish it wasn't angel."

I cling to him, his frigid toes touching mine at the foot of the bed.

For the first time in forever I'm warmer than him. I can't share my heat with him but I pull the covers up around us, nestling deeper. My body is a little radiator, pressed up beside him. I pretend he feels the warmth coming off me. Shivering from my touch and not the cold. 

I pretend his heart is beating just as steadily as mine. They beat for each other. I want him to roar with laughter, his body shaking, causing mine to quiver.

His laughter was always so beautiful and pure, his smile so bright it could light up the entire sky.

My lips tingle as I kiss him again. His favorite spot. I'd always get the hint. He'd tilt his neck ever so slightly until my mouth latched on, sucking and biting until he moaned my name.

There are still fresh lovebites on his neck. We has slipping away from me when I left an entire trail.

He probably felt weightless and heavy all at once, like there were strong drugs in his system. I've never seen him come so hard but I'm glad I made him feel that good one last time.

His curls are so soft between my fingers.

The night gives me comfort. Everything will change when I see him in the harsh sunlight.

Come morning he'll be-

He wanted to be cremated. I know exactly where to spread his ashes.

"I'm so glad you weren't afraid of me angel. I tried to take you gently."

His pillowcase is creased from his cheek. I hope it stays like that forever.

I've known about this for quite some time now

but I don't think my heart will ever be ready to move on.

A/N: IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAS EXPERIENCED SHOOKNESS CALL 1-800-SHOOK


	38. Zayn

God is good. No, he's seriously the best.

Good luck to the next guy wearing that thick black cape. It's hot enough in hell as is.

Being mortal is a bit underwhelming but I'm ecstatic nonetheless.

I'm going to eventually die.

Sounds wonderful Zayn! Should we throw you a party?

Okay, okay. It sounds crazy being excited about that but I'll actually get to see Harry again. That's the greatest gift I could have ever asked for.

I'm back at the banks where a certain cheeky green-eyed boy pulled me in. In more than one way. He captured my heart, stole my breath...made me so soft. Not that I regret turning soft for him. I'd do anything for him.

I smile to myself. Most people leave ashes on the shore of a beautiful beach, white sand beneath their feet but that's seriously overrated.

We had our own little paradise right here.

When I faced the Devil for the last time, pleading to get Harry back I told him that I did everything he ever asked of me. Neither of us deserved that ending. It was so unfair. We'd both been through enough. Through hell...and that's no joke. I begged until my throat was raw. I don't think I've ever been so desperate.

A soft white light washed over me and I heard the most relaxing voice in my head.

You don't have to suffer my child. I will take you under my wing.

All I could think of is how truly blessed I am that I get to touch my angel again.

Someday. I yearn every waking minute but it's okay. I'd wait forever.

The first day as my new mortal self I tried to take my life but Liam frantically stopped me, telling me I needed to be strong for Harry.

It hit everyone way harder than I expected.

How could it not? Harry was a bundle of joy. Everywhere he went light and laughter followed.

Everything is so peaceful. There's a gentle breeze blowing through the trees. I sit for the longest time visiting with my best friend.

My soulmate.

"Liam is going to be a dad soon Harry. I don't really know how to feel about that. The lads and I were playing video games last night and Niall's elbow accidentally knocked into a soda can. Of course Louis thought it was hilarious because Liam broke out into full-on Daddy mode. It was quite a sight."

I pick up a small stone, thumb feeling its smooth edges.

"I missed you," I add softly. "Not a moment goes by when I don't but I try to stay happy for you. I love you," I wipe at my wet eyes with the back of my hand, heart fluttering.

I'll always love Harry and he'll always love me.

"So...I found like a zillion photos on your old camera. You were pretty sneaky. You had a way of capturing my good side but there weren't really many of us together which makes me sad. It's okay though, I hung them up above the bed, just below the strand of fairy lights," I add with a chuckle. "Pretty Woman came on a few nights ago but I burned the popcorn. It was alright but usually I'd share a blanket with you. I mean it actually covered all of my body for once but I'd rather be a bit cold and make that sacrifice for you. Then again," I stop to sigh, my fingers running gently through my hair. "We'd always end up cuddling and you know I don't mind that at all."

I'm a rambly mess of thoughts but this is my favorite part of the day, making the long drive to visit our shared sacred spot.

"I want to kiss you so bad. I really took our kisses for granted...everything really. Even the way you looked at me. You know I have yet to see someone as beautiful as you. Everyone just pales in comparison."

The sun is setting. It's a beautiful array of bright pinks and vivid orange.

"I wish you were here with me to see this," I exhale softly, chin resting in the palm of my hand. "Everything feels much more special now. I notice small details and try to store things in my memory. Did I tell you I signed up for a photography class? I probably did," I laugh lightly. "I repeat myself a lot, don't I Harry? You know that brown sugar candle you liked to burn in the living room? I found a bunch of them in HomeSense. The woman thought I was mad because I stocked up on them. I saw these boots in Topman you'd like too. I almost bought them for myself but that style doesn't suit me as well as it did you. Also your guitar was out of tune because Niall's niece fiddled with the strings. I fixed it though," I beam proudly.

The sun dips beyond the horizon and the moon steals the show. I lay flat on my back, arms crossed behind my head.

"This is almost perfect Harry...except I'm not holding you in my arms. Do you know what I love about you?"

Of course he does, I add to the list every night.

"How much you cherished every moment, savored every memory and committed them to heart. I wish I was more like you. You know how impatient I am but I'm trying. For you angel. Always for you."

My heart stills, breath hitching as I take in all the twinkling stars.

"You joined me," I whisper in awe, eyes landing on the biggest and brightest star. "You're dazzling as always," I smile to myself. "You were hiding from me last night...quite shy aren't we? But that's okay. I see you now angel."

There goes my heart again, climbing up my ribcage like a ladder as his hushed words echo in my head.

You can always find me in the stars.

END


End file.
